All New, Coming This January...

Today is New Year's Eve. People in cities around the world will soon be gathering outdoors in great masses, talking, partying, and mostly just waiting, watching their watches as the twelve o'clock hour draws near. When eleven fifty-nine arrives, the counting begins. Someone shouts a number over here, another integer is mumbled over there, and soon everybody's joined in the chant. The excitement grows. Three... Two... One... Euphoria! The ball drops, the fireworks explode, the champagne flies, and everybody screams, "Happy New Year!" The crowd temporarily loses itself in swirling clouds of confetti.

When I think of this scene, I can't help but imagine that there must be a person standing still in the midst of it all, a look of bewilderment on his face, questions stirring in his mind. He starts to ask his neighbors, "Did I miss something? Why are we cheering? What just happened?" After a time, he finds someone to answer his questions. When the explanation is given, he pauses, then asks in disbelief, "That's it? You mean, just that little nine now where the eight used to be? That's the only thing that's changed? Why ever did I come all the way out here for this?"

I confess, I've long thought this holiday was a tad odd. I mean, I realize it's the beginning of another year. But so what? When the sun dawns on January 1, 2009; December 31 will still only have been a day ago. The fact that January 1, 2009, is the start of a new year is true only in the sense that it will have been a year since January 1, 2008. And, in that sense, isn't every day a new year's day? December 31, 2008, marks the beginning of a new year since December 31, 2007. So oughtn't I be celebrating already? The only difference about January 1 is that we've all agreed that this should be the date when we start using the next number in our yearly sequence. What the parties really must boil down to, then, is a celebration of our ability to count.

I hope no one will take to calling me the New Year's Scrooge now, for I don't mean to drizzle on anybody's holiday spirit, or rain on anyone's parade, as I think the expression goes. I suppose if this little quirk of the calendar can serve as an excuse for a bit of fun, then I won't try and dissuade anyone from it. Fun is good. I shan't preach against fun.

Above all, I expect this holiday is really one about memory. It's an occasion for remembering, and an occasion for making memories. Time, after all, is always sweeping along, and carrying us with it. It's only right to set aside a little interval somewhere for reflecting on what we've been through, celebrating what we've accomplished, and looking eagerly towards what's yet to come. That's commendable, I can't find fault there. No fault, that is, except for the TV retrospectives. Those get on my nerves after about five minutes. Otherwise, though, yes, I can appreciate a night and day about memory. January 1 is as good a time for such a thing as any other, I suppose. Well—you might have thought they could put it somewhere else, like, I don't know, September 30, in the midst of a holiday drought, instead of plopping it a week after Christmas, when nobody really needs to go out for another bash anyway.

Whatever. I suppose that I will, if somewhat begrudgingly, end by wishing you a happy new year. May it be filled with joy and excitement. Joy and excitement, that is, unless you are the type who prefers joy and unexciting quietude. Whichever you prefer, Happy New Year! But I don't see why we can't wish each other a happy forever.