I never have and likely never will understand the purpose of New Year's Eve. For some reason, in the mind of everyone I talk to, the grand and magical evening that is expected to end the year with fantastic memories, and bring the next digit in with promise of new changes is always completely underwhelming. In reality, it is usually a drunken evening filled with stupid hats, equally asinine TV specials, and a mediocre good time. To add to the bland flavor of the holiday, the only thing certain as the new year rolls around is that many, many people will spend January 1st with a massive hangover. Forgive me for not being strongly enthused about much but getting out of work two hours early.
Then, of course, there is the little matter of the sadistic "New Year's Resolution". Although the start of a new year brings with it a light feeling of new leaves, turned pages, and all that jazz, I can't help but wonder how much dedication people have who need to wait until an entire year of their lives has passed before they can resolve to change something about themselves. How many people wake up in November or December and say, "I hate that I smoke, that I'm overweight, and that I bite my nails. I'm going to fix it all in January!"? That sure looks like a prime cut of Grade A procrastination to me. I'll admit, I'm probably so critical of the concept because I am notorious for creating lists of improvements to make upon myself and failing miserably after a week of lukewarm effort. I guess there's something appealing about choosing a meaningful day to make a major change, but the likelihood of a specific date motivating someone enough to actually follow through on an ambition they wouldn't normally succeed in seems like a pretty steaming pile of bull to me. I don't see anything particularly moving or inspiring about the first day of a new year. Sure, it might say "Congratulations, your planet has lasted one more year without being hit by a meteor or imploding upon itself", but is it really that interesting to celebrate?
Sure, people enjoy celebrating a new year in their lives as well, but isn't that what birthdays are for? I don't see how celebrating another birthday -- not of our planet, even, but of our calendar -- is that thrilling of a prospect to people that they will create new goals and stretch to reach new heights in their personal success. This year, I'm not celebrating the start of a new year. I'm going to drink to celebrate the birthdays of J.D. Salinger, Paul Revere, and of course Rodger Bumpass, because without him, who would be the voice of Squidward on Spongebob Squarepants? I drink to you, oh beacons of history.
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