Happy New Year gentle readers! Did you whack your piñatas; did you flounder forlorn or feast festively through your First Night? Did you trip the light fantastic (whatever that means)? Did you get conflobulated and then drive home drunk with all the amateurs? The only thing I drive drunk is the porcelain bus. The last time Shauna and I went out for New Year’s Eve was well over ten years ago, and we did the black tie and gown gig. Based on the experience we may never do it again. We were living in Toronto at the time and a well known restaurateur had opened up a fancy restaurant within walking distance from our apartment. Because this guy was an old acquaintance of the Taylors, Shauna and I decided to attend his fancy black tie New Year’s Eve celebration. Bad choice, it was a complete disaster. The waiters got drunk and screwed up everyone’s orders, the band was set up in a hallway, partially blocking the only access to the bathroom, the food was unsatisfactory, horribly late, and courses were served in the wrong order. Our salads were served after desert. To make matters worse, we’d brought along a guest who knew a bit about fine dining, and he must have thought we were crazy for bringing him to this madhouse. Occasionally I like to get dressed up, but I think going to a fancy restaurant on New Year’s Eve is asking for trouble. When I lived in Buffalo we used to go downtown to watch the ball drop and listen to the live band, then we did our heavy partying when we got home. Shauna and I have for the past ten years decided not to go anywhere on New Years Eve. This year we have Shauna’s parents up here with us in the Great White North. I toyed with the idea of appointing Shauna the designated driver and attending the nearby and much-touted New Year’s Eve celebration at the Katrine Community center. I’ve attended several of the galas at this venue and can say from experience that they are special. There we would have been treated to a live band, dancing, and a sumptuous midnight buffet --you haven‘t lived until you’ve tried the moose Wellington -- all for the very reasonable admission charge of twenty bucks per head. I didn’t think my father-in-law could wait until midnight to eat, and I wasn’t prepared to listen to him whine about it while I enjoyed a rousing rendition of “You Picked a Fine Time to Leave me Lucille,” as interpreted by several local musicians with their out-of-tune instruments. Instead, we celebrated at the world famous Jasper Bark Lodge, I had my obligatory six malt beverages, we had a sumptuous feast, and then watched the sexually ambiguous but always amusing banter between Anderson Cooper and the ever-edgy Kathy Griffin, live from Times Square. CNN became our new tradition for New Year’s Eve when Dick Clark handed over the reins to that bubble head Ryan Seabreeze. Since his crippling stroke, “the world’s oldest living teenager” still makes a courageous guest appearance each New Year’s Eve, but it’s not the same, and that annoying Seabreeze doesn't cut the cake for me. I get enough of his twititude on American Idol, and I will not allow him to sully my New Year’s celebration with his inane narcissism. While everyone’s looking for a new way to usher in the new year, my particular favorite is to watch “Sushi” the transvestite lowered in a glass slipper from the second story of a building in Key West. Now that’s entertainment.
As the celebrities continue to crash and burn (who would have thought Katy Perry and Russell Brand were not destined to spend the rest of their lives together in marital bliss???), the Republican candidates eagerly await the results of the Iowa caucuses to predict which bozo has a cold chance in hell of overthrowing Obumble, as the world economy continues to sputter, and the Middle East continues to quake and rumble, I look ahead to the new year with ever-lowering expectations. I’m always hoping for more tolerance and love, but how does one accomplish this? In an era when communication seems to be in inverse proportion to information received, I don’t know how we can teach people to listen or be more charitable. I can only hope that 2012 will be the year we focus on better role models. They are out there everywhere if we simply shine a light on them. With my vast influence and exceptional communication skills, I intend to do my part. Will you? Be good parents; be good children. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with the porcelin bus.
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2011 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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