For those of you who had heavy heads and foul tasting mouths yesterday morning I sympathize.
I myself have no such problem. Maybe it’s part of getting older.
Maybe I am just an old fart.
But the idea of staying up until midnight, drinking myself into a coma and counting down while that silly ball touches down seems like a colossally bad idea.
First of all let’s talk about the ball. Why does it go down? I would think if we were celebrating something good it would go up.
It would be funny if the thing slipped, wouldn’t it? 5…4…3…oops.
Ok, how about this staying up until midnight when the New Year begins. I will pass on that one. The New Year can wait for me to get up the next day to begin. It is after all, my New Year and it can start when I am good and ready.
Now the drinking myself into a coma.
Why should that night be any different than any other night?
