For the last six years, my husband and I have made ourselves a promise to usher in the New Year in a comedy club, laughing. This year we decided to change things a bit and begin the year singing along with our favorite Jazz singer at a restaurant in Kent, Connecticut.
We drive from our apartment in Manhattan to the country home in Massachusetts with stars in our eyes and empty stomachs, anticipating a huge meal later. We get to the house at about 7:30 PM. I have one hour to get ready for a 9:30 reservation, which is almost an hour from our house. We drive dark windy roads…
My nerves are shot by the time we reach our destination.
We get seated at the furthest corner of the crowded bar, by the door…thirteen degrees outside, cold air rushing in each time the door opens…bodies pressed against our table. My husband and I make a quick decision and we leave.
It is now 9:45. Tired and hungry, we drive the same dark, windy road back to our town. Nothing in the house to eat, we’re on a quest to find a restaurant or even a pizza place in a town where everything shuts down at 10:00 o’clock. Sharp. But for some reason we neglected to remember that. Still, we keep our good spirits up and eventually we end up at a liquor store seven minutes before closing. We stock up on crackers and cheese and salami and cookies, a dietary consumption that goes entirely against everything I believe I should be putting in my body. I choose not to be choosy.
We end up back home, in front of the TV, eating junk food and watching the ball drop.
It’s not my style to make New Year’s resolutions, but I’m changing the pattern this one time.
And that is…
Next year we’ll be walking the three blocks to our favorite comedy club in Manhattan – and begin the year laughing.
Happy New Year