I never thought of it before but Ripley is right.....there is a protocol that you must follow and much of it is something we wouldn't normally do. Count down from 10; shout at the top of our lungs; blow children's toy musical instruments; kiss passing acquaintances or total strangers, etc. etc.
It's not like you have a choice about that New Year's Eve party. You didn't think that, did you?
By BOB RIPLEY
New Years' Eve is so intimidating.
It's not a night like other nights. You can't enjoy a sensible supper representing all four food groups, watch the news, finish the paper, check e-mail and go to bed before midnight.
On the last night of the year, it's compulsory to have fun.
In order to have fun, you may have to pay big money and go to a place you've never been before to be with people you've never met before.
You may have to put on a loud tie, a sparkling sweater and your new Christmas socks and attempt a new dance step even though it makes you look like you've lost control of your faculties.
You may have to gyrate to music you don't like, played too loud by a band you've never heard before. You may have to endure the smoke of someone else's cigar and laugh at someone's joke you don't get.
You may have to wear a paper hat and blow into a paper noisemaker. You may have to inhale chips and talk loudly.
You may have to assemble in front of someone's new flat, wide, plasma screen with surround-sound system to watch Carson Daly and thousands of revelers wearing sunglasses at night shaped like 2007, packed like screaming sardines, shivering and shaking in Times Square, in order to watch a glass and metal ball be lowered gingerly to the roof of a building in New York City.
You may have to make up some promises to yourself, even though you have absolutely no intention of keeping them. You may have to sip from a glass of champagne someone handed to you even though you can't stand bubbly. You may have to hold a stranger's hand and sway and sing a song neither of you understands.
And, finally, you may have to find your casserole dish in someone's kitchen and your coat on someone's bed. You have to find your car and your keys and your home -- safely.
Tomorrow night is not a night to be in command of your feelings, even if they are melancholy. It is not a night to stand in front of the full-length mirror of memory and thoughtfully trace the outline of the past year to spot changes for good or ill.
On such a night of compulsory fun, there is no time to look at the kids when they're sleeping, or their portraits when they've moved away.
No time to sit quietly with someone you love to reminisce and anticipate. And certainly no time to give thanks to the One who gave you life, that you've lived another year.
No, tomorrow will be a night for some serious fun -- whatever the cost.
Yahoo.
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