Feels like day one

Sal and I used to host a NON New Years eve party.  If you want to have fun, drink, goof around, make noise, kiss each other’s wives and stay til midnight, don’t come.  If you have nowhere else to go, are willing to relax and just chill, promise not to kiss anyone and are in your own home before midnight, you were welcome. Come late, leave early and you’d get invited every year.

But, after a few years with way,way too many people attending, that got too intense, too. We quit that nonsense til this year. So, we have now changed it up to hosting a NON party on the next day. Today. This is basically for those who had no party to go to on New Years Eve and are extra grateful for a second-chance pity party, still willing to go home early and have no expectations whatsoever. If you have expectations, don’t come.  In fact, we are not issuing invitations anymore.

Because tonight, we’ll have eight for dinner. If they stay for dessert, we’ll never do this again.

It must come as no surprise, but I am not a fan of parties.  Never have been. And I feel even more strongly about that as we all get older.  Chit chat has never appealed to me and chit chat with people hard of hearing is hard work.  Really hard work.  I am at that age when everyone I know is hard of hearing and, worse, their voices seem to be getting weaker.

And, is it just me or is background noise getting louder?

I have never understood parties, even when I was young.  I just didn’t get it.  Still don’t. Why gather for meaningless conversation which is interrupted all the time? I only attended now and then to dabble in the gene pool anyway and way too often remained bone-dry…if you’ll pardon the wording.  It was hit and miss at best and I batted poorly, hardly making contact. Mostly striking out.  In fact, I reasoned that I could do much better entering a female beauty contest.  I would lose, of course, probably disqualified early, but at least I would have more fun in the dressing room if I dressed up enough to get in.  Parties were not even that promising.

I always met women by accident, never on purpose, never planned, never by intentional gatherings.  I even met Sally at the PNE.  She was sitting on the steps of the BC building with her girlfriend and looking all of 13 years old.  I was 21 and sat near them just to get out of the sun.  My friend Ted was making a fool of himself  doing what I had suggested would work to pick up chicks (but didn’t) and so I mentioned the silliness that was unfolding in front of us to the young girls nearby.  It was just a quick remark.  I really thought she was just a kid.  I wasn’t even chatting.  It was a total fluke of serendipity that I was chatting up my wife-to-be.

That was close to 47 years ago.

And today feels like day one.  I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

11 thoughts on “Feels like day one

    • I am a romantic, that’s true but it was the romantic that ‘caught’ her – not the 13 year old- looking girl’s wiles that caught me. Sal set no traps. She doesn’t need ’em. She is like the Queen. The subjects come to her and beg an audience. Mind you, I WAS pretty cute myself back then…………..


  1. A “pity” party. I like it.
    Yeah , I couldnt stay awake after 9:30pm last night.
    Woke up to the sounds of kids yelling ” Happy New Yearrrrsshh” and exploding bombs/firecrackers/horns.
    I fell back asleep secure in the knowledge that Clark Gable’s legendary drinking buddy and girlfriend Carole Lombard nailed it when she was asked by a Hollywood reporter what they were planning for New Years Eve.
    She gave him a withering look and replied, ” New Years Eve is for amateurs”.


  2. I think you and I might see eye to eye, on some things at least. Most end of Decembers I’m in bed by 10:30. I dislike the ‘scheduled celebrations’ – would purposely over indulge the day before in order to avoid the accepted one. For what its worth, this year end was no exception. I was in bed by 10:30.

    I think my apprentice cleaning lady and Sal are about the same age, judging by the information you divulged above. But that’s about all I’m prepared to disclose. The pictures of H.E.R. are all in my head. She eventually came back from her run.


    • Same way. I find it hard to be ‘happy’ according to the calendar. Mind you, I do tend to get grumpy and humbuggy according to the calendar so maybe it’s my attitude? Anyway, I am happy most of the time and that trumps all. Oddly, I am happy reading about your romantic exploits. Vicarious thrills, I guess. Sal is waiting for chapter two as well. We are on tenterhooks. I say, “grab her, kiss her, spin her around and do it again!” Spinning at our age brings on a swoon….its that or a bottle of wine and a nice dinner. The spin-trick is quicker …..works just as well. (A chick tip from the unwritten book of the same name).


      • It worked well for me and is a lot cheaper than a bottle of wine and a nice dinner. (Admittedly I did both – I don’t have time to experiment). I introduced the love-of-my-life apprentice housecleaner to your blog and she’s ‘aghast’ that I’d even consider posting pictures H-E-R on your site.
        Tell Sal she’ll have to wait until my Sal (not her real name) edits out the naughty bits.


  3. Over 51 years ago I married the love of my life. I saw her sitting on a large rock on the shore of Waterton Lake, AB a few years before that; and said to my buddy “I’m going to marry that girl!”. And the rest is history…………………..


    • Destiny? Fate? Inevitable? Sometimes it is simply bigger than both of you and just as obvious. When that happens , lie back and enjoy it. Sal was a life-lottery grand prize win. Glad to hear yours was a winning ticket, too.


    • Should you be driving, Ross? What are you ingesting? You know, I just ASSUME all my readers are sane…..still, weird as it is, nice to see you again. Watch out for roadchecks and stop playing whack-a-dope with the clients!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.