Christmas time has come and gone, and none too soon if you ask me. Sure... there are the holiday traditions that I enjoy thoroughly: the Christmas Eve Chinese food chow-down chock full of Mai Tais, gathering oddly wrapped packages before a tree like a shrine to some Pagan arboreal demigod, and the excuse to wear pajamas all day long on Christmas. But beyond that... I can't say I take any more. And on a sudden side note... I must admit I find the idea of Santa Claus highly disconcerting. Think about it: you have an obese, red-faced old man decked out in bright red velour entering your house in the middle of the night while you sleep in order to leave "presents." Why does that come off as a euphemism for a much more disturbing thought? Maybe I'm just being paranoid.
With the end of Christmas, we find ourselves in the Limbo period between celebratory events. The window of December 26th through December 30th is a very strange set of days indeed. It's like a hangover that starts off resembling hunger... but comes in two hours later and kicks your ass six ways from Sunday. People go back to work for a few trepid days before the end all be all of celebrations goes down. And no... I'm not referring to Waiting for the Barbarians Day (real holiday, November 4th). I am referring to New Year's Eve. The Generalissimo of Public Intoxication. Unless, of course, you live in New Orleans.
Yes, folks... New Year's Eve. The curtain call to the previous 364 days during which you undoubtedly committed at least one inane or moronic act. Maybe you made the mistake of sticking a fork in the toaster. Perhaps you got drunk at a company party and referred to your boss's wife as a "bumbling she-cow with the personality of a dead skunk." Oh Hell... maybe you went out drinking with your compatriots and came to three days later in a hacienda outside of Tijuana with a drunken donkey and two Thai strippers named Yum Yum and Bang Bang. Come on... don't be ashamed. We've all be there. And so in light of our shame... we look to the New Year as a chance for redemption. "Tonight is the last night," we tell ourselves optimistically, slinging back shots of tequila as we watch the clock move gruelingly towards midnight. But I have to ask, my glue-huffing followers. Are we not just deluding ourselves in order to justify one more night of debauchery? Do we really believe that on January 1st, we will curb our licentious habits and irregular interests? The way I see it... the new year is just another chance to make the same mistakes twice, perhaps even more drastically than the first time around. Not that I'm trying to make anyone depressed here. I am all for the illusion!
As I have done so often in the past... with the immanent transition to another calendar year, I have to sit back and reflect back upon the highlights of 2010. It seemed like it was going to be a good year... but it ended up sucking pretty much like every other year before it. From WikiLeaks to Glee uber-freaks, nothing noticeably good has happened in '10. Socially, culturally, economically, and now... geographically. Think about it. Weeks into 2010, Haiti broke down like an American made car after a Kristy Alley sized earthquake (which is very, VERY big). Unfortunate as that was... I was saddened more that Americans only took notice after Wyclef Jean made it popular. (And since when did Wyclef have political qualifications? I thought being president of a nation required more than just am overflowing bank account and a career in the entertainment industry. Oh wait... Ronald Regan is already dead.) Talking about earthquakes... just a few months after there were subsequent 'quakes in both China and Chile. Not to mention a few volcano eruptions around the globe. If you ask me (which I always assume you are because you're reading this!), I think Mama Nature is out for vengeance; she's goin' full steam in hopes of laying waste to us with the gusto of a Clint Eastwood film.
As bad as the planet trying as hard as it can to kill us, I think we're doing a pretty good job at that ourselves. It seems Europe has become the continental equivalent of Detroit: smashed in store-front windows, clashes between citizens and police, rubber bullets, tear gass, and more aerial Molotov cocktails than a Russian bachelor party. So essentially... a giant shit hole. There's violent rioting all over the place: France (angry chain-smoking geriatrics demanding their pensions), Italy (long haired soccer players pissed off about a political election... or the season finale of Jersey Shore. They love their guidos), England (students angry over having to possibly pay for college. On this one I have no sympathy. Try coming here you pompous, bucktoothed freaks!), Greece (pita pockets and gyros dropped as public servants watched their jobs disappear. At least the Greeks have the amazing super-dog Loukanikos [literally means a type of sausage]. This dog has been showing up at public protests for the last two years. Find him on Facebook!) and Ireland (rioting just because they can...).
While Europe tears itself apart, Asia is just tearing each other apart. Protestors in Bangkok are killed when the military stepped in, and the Koreans are at each other's throats once more. I truly think Kim Jong Il's secret to his success are the 1970's aviators and his bouffant blowout hairstyle. While Nero fiddled during Rome's burning, ol' Kimmy Jong was picking his hair higher as the north shelled the south for no apparent reason.
So yes... think fondly of the horrors and atrocities of the last year. As you are perched at a bar, maliciously treating your body like a playground, awaiting the new year like a dog eagerly anticipating a treat... remember these words of wisdom: "If last year sucked, next year will probably suck too!" Happy New Year you squabbling Recess monkeys!
