T-pisode 233: The History of T’s New Year’s Eves

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"Champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends"
“Champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends”

This past New Year’s Eve motivated me to write a little history recap of my experiences on this holiday. Why should you care? Because there is a certain evolution that goes on with New Year’s Eve over the course of one’s life and if you don’t accept this evolution then your New Year’s Eve is going to suck. I see friends and family on Facebook and how they are either let down by the holiday or asleep before the ball drops. I see people on Twitter complaining about the parties and clubs that they are still at as they complain. And I can speak about it all when it comes to the holiday, because I did it all and I did it right. Let me explain.

As a little kid your parents are already out of the New Year’s Eve celebrating game so they take you to a relative’s house where you play with your cousins, get to stay up really late and if you’re an Eastie kid, you get to run into the streets banging pots & pans at midnight while illegal fireworks go off. That’s a kid’s version of NYE. With family. As a young teenager you do everything you can to break away from your parents and try to be cooler. Luckily my sister and bro-in-law used to let me stay over, play card games and drink Jell-O shots with them and their friends. That’s the early teenager version of NYE. With older cooler people. The late teenage/early college years are quite simply house parties on NYE. I spent the majority of those years at some house parties but most of them were at my good Eastie buddy’s parentless house where we would all drink ourselves to death. No seriously. I almost died a few times at those NYE parties. That’s the late teenage/early college years version of NYE. Hard partying with good friends. When you hit 21, that’s when it all changes on NYE. Now you enter the world of “The Club” whether by choice or not. NYE at “The Club” requires way too expensive tickets in advance, never getting the “complimentary” champagne glass to toast at midnight that you prepaid for and never ever ever meeting a good person to kiss at midnight. I even spent the famous “Y2K/End Of The World NYE” at the club. Guess what? We still here yo! Bottom line, “The Club” NYE version just like the whole Y2K thing is greatly overrated and one big scam. Your late twenties is when you decide to get out of the club scene and start thinking “oh you fancy, huh” and throw on the suit/tux or dress if you’re a lady and go to some hotel’s NYE black tie affair gala. Then you quickly realize this is stupid as shit and immediately go back to “The Club” and realize that is stupid as shit too and now you don’t want to do anything on New Year’s Eve ever again!!! Right? Wrong. Don’t stay home. Don’t be miserable. It’s time to go full circle and back to family. That’s right. All of the people who you started this NYE thing with are now grown and having those family parties that you loved as a kid except now you’re all adults. And some of you have kids starting their own NYE evolution. Trust me. I now spend my NYE at my cousin’s house with my family drinking, eating, laughing, reminiscing about past New Year’s Eves and appreciating what I have in my life now. It’s a beautiful thing people.

Every single one of us has our “holiday routines” for each holiday. But for the most part they stay the same. Christmas. Easter. Thanksgiving. Whatever. But New Year’s Eve is the only holiday that has its own course. It changes every few years and you either adapt for happiness or stay still and be miserable. There really isn’t a medium. I’m at the point now at this past NYE I had just started to date HER again and even though I was having another amazing time with my family I couldn’t stop thinking about getting to kiss HER at midnight at next year’s New Year’s Eve. I’m even looking forward to what future holidays now have in store for me and maybe, just maybe one last evolution for my New Year’s Eve.


Until next time. Always take it there.