At The Stroke of Midnight

It's fair to say that for us and many others, the crystal ball drop in Times Square is the focus of New Year's Eve. Depending on where you are located, however, there are regional variations. In Prescott, AZ they drop a six-foot lighted boot from a 40-foot flagpole, while in Mobile, AL they do it with a 600-pound and 12-foot-tall MoonPie. In Panama City, FL it's much the same with a ten-foot diameter beach ball, while in Boise they do the same with a giant potato. But all start with something in the sky, and celebrate when it hits the ground.

While that traditional approach is both watched and mimicked around the world there are other customs which are used to mark and celebrate the flipping over of the calendar. In Spain, as the clock gets ready to strike midnight, all are counting out 12 grapes to stuff in their mouths, popping one for each month of the new year as a symbol of good luck. In Brazil they wear white underwear to ward off evil spirits and bring luck, while in Columbia all carry empty suitcases to indicate a new year filed with travel and a place to put the fortunes they hope to make in the ensuing twelve months. 

Meanwhile, in Denmark, the night is celebrated to the sound of smashing china. That's because people gather up old plates and dishes and throw them against friends' and neighbors' front doors. The bigger the pile the next morning, the more luck you'll have during the year. In that same vein you have to watch where you are walking in Italy. There they don't throw anything small like teacups, but rather old furniture. And instead of at a door, they toss it out the window, supposedly symbolizing a fresh start. And while both of those risk injury, in Switzerland it's not dangerous but messy. There the tradition is to drop ice cream on the ground at midnight in the hopes of abundance, good luck, and wealth in the new year.

But as noted, for us it is all about the ball. That said, while that is the focus of the night, how we celebrate the lead up has changed as we've gone from singles to a couple to parents to empty nesters. We used to meet up with others and head out to party, going to New Year's themed events and shows to celebrate, with the drop somewhere in the middle. As a couple we gathered together with friends in locales near and far, with that midnight moment closer to the end of our outing. Once we became parents our activities were more limited by necessity. The saving grace was that we were hardly alone, with many friends in similar situations. One instituted a shamelessly early party that started at 6PM. They told all to bring their kids, and set their clocks ahead by hours, so we could all ring in "midnight" together and still be home by nine, the real one.

As our kids got older and headed out on their own, we started to venture out again with a later time frame, usually with small groups of friends for celebratory dinners at someone's house, or all came to us. While we didn't set the clocks ahead (there was no one to fool but ourselves) we still tended towards earlier than later, with the evening ending as the ball dropped or shortly before. In recent years we've come full circle, bouncing between a few friends and celebrations, though most are smaller and less crowded then whence we started. And the ball drop? We often watch it the next morning on replay.

It's been an evolution in some ways, a regression in others. The only constant is that whenever we call it a night, be it early in the evening, early the following morning, or at the stroke of midnight itself, we make a fervent wish that the new year will be better than the last, and not as good as the next. Added to that is the knowledge that if we are indeed ever in Switzerland at that time, tradition be dammed, we will eat the ice cream. 

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Marc Wollin of Bedford wishes all a happy 2025. His column appears weekly via email and online on Blogspot and Substack as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

2024 Redux

It's the week before Christmas, almost closing the book

On the twelve months gone by, so let's give it a look 

A year like a mine field, you had to watch where you stepped

You shuffled or jumped, you laughed or you wept

There was mayhem and uproar, only the venues did change

Some were expected, others were new and were strange

So let's get to the details, see what killed and what hid 

See what hit the heights and what hit the skids

There were sideshows and warmups, but in the center of the ring

The US vote dominated winter, summer and spring

A debate, a shooting, but when fall ended the stump

The country moved to the right, the edge went to Trump

The White House was flipped, the Senate as well

Yet when the counting was done the House had the same smell

The country has spoken, the direction seems clear

Let's blow it all up, the place needs a slap on the rear

It brought big grins in some places, despair in some more

While many are waiting to see how it gets scored

All three branches together, the dog got the bus

Now what will they do, will there be cheering or fuss?

While all of that drama took over the room 

In the world around things kept going boom

In Ukraine and the Mid East, conflicts upping the score

Haiti in chaos, Syria has new chapter in store 

The climate was changing, with storms that got worse

The hottest summer on record, many places were cursed

Flooding in Europe, twisters in the Midwest

Hurricanes in the south, Mother Nature a mess 

Putin was re-elected, no surprise from that place

While Mexico put a woman at the top of their space

After 14 years the Tories were election deprived

While Modi was the winner of a third term of five

In Baltimore a bridge came crashing on down

While Wall Street sent the Dow Jones out on the town

Charles had cancer, an eclipse stopped the show

Caitlin broke Pistol Pete's record, France staged an Olympic tableau

The Chiefs won again, the Celts did the same

The Dodgers and Panthers won trophies and fame

And while Barbie in pink was a box office threat 

It was Oppe in black for the gold statuette

Taylor sang all of her Eras, by the thousands they came

LeBron played with Bronny, the first in a game

Tech broke new ground, hallucinations aside 

In pics, words and everything, the word was AI

As always, some departed who lived in fine form

Chita Rivera, Charles Osgood, David Sanborn

Quincy Jones, Terri Garr, Bob Newhart, Jerry West

James Earl Jones, Willie Mays, just some of the best 

As to the New Year, well, there's lots to digest

Will it work out for the better, or will it be just a mess?

Each half thinks they're righteous, the others are nuts

We all have to cool down, and get out of our ruts

Aim for healthy and happy, and friends by your side

That way whatever gets dished out you can take it in stride

So from my place to yours, to all in your hive

Peace, love and happiness and a stellar ‘25

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Marc Wollin of Bedford thanks all for spending some time in this space. His column appears weekly via email and online on Blogspot and Substack as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

Walk? Much!

Turns out getting to the airport was the fastest part.

It was early in Charlotte, like 430AM on a Saturday early. When I woke up I first checked to see if there were any Ubers out and about. The app showed a few, and I figured there would be more an hour later when I was ready to move. I hopped in the shower, then started to gather up my stuff and finish packing. I checked the app again: indeed, there were a bunch of itty-bitty cars moving around on my screen. 

I put in my terminal info, confirmed the pickup location and hit go. The little fever bar started moving slowly as my request was put into the ether. A few minutes later, a match: 10 minutes until Mohammed would arrive. Moments later as I finished zipping up my suitcase my phone buzzed: he was pulling up in a minute. I raced to put all my stuff together, took a last look around the room to make sure I had it all, and headed downstairs.

We hit the carport at the same time and loaded up. At that hour of a weekend morning traffic was non-existent, and we went from downtown to the terminal in 14 minutes flat. Lots of people were on the move, though, as the place was buzzing. Still, the security check went quickly, my bags were scanned in short order, leaving me way more time than I needed to get to the gate. 

Or maybe not. As airports are being redesigned and updated to accommodate larger planes they need more space between gates, increasing the ground part of your journey. Currently the longest haul is at Dallas-Fort Worth, where the jaunt from Terminal B to E is more than 2 miles. The good news is that our little regional White Plains airport has among the shortest traverses, as it's just one dinky terminal with 6 gates: you can get from gate to curb in two minutes, three if you stop to use the rest room.

But that was at the end of my journey. Because it was early they did not have all the security checkpoints open, so I was shunted to the one closest to the A gates. And since I was flying into our small local airport, my plane was leaving from the E terminal. I'm sure there are airports with F's and G's, but you know it's gonna be a hike when you are out of the ABC's. And a look at the map showed my gate wasn't just in the E terminal, it was at the end. The very end.

OK, no problem. I had a wheeled suitcase and was wearing my sneakers. I figured I could stop and grab coffee along the way, and there would be moving sidewalks as needed. Plenty of time with some to kill, and a little exercise before being wedged into a seat for a few hours. Piece of cake. So off I started. 

As I walked past the food court, I glanced at my watch noting that it was indeed early. So early, in fact, that many of the places were yet to open. The number of coffee stops was cut even smaller as only those that served breakfast were working. The net result was that every open establishment had a line nearly as long as the boarding line would be. Oh well. I'm sure they will have coffee on the plane.

And then there were the moving sidewalks: there were none on my route. It's not that they were out of action for mechanical reasons. Rather, it seems they were mostly being upgraded and reconfigured. Those devices are notoriously trouble prone, with frequent breakdowns. But there is also a movement afoot in airports to make the spaces more akin to malls, with stores and shops catering to a truly captive clientele with hours to kill. And to do that you can't put potential customers on a conveyor belt that carries them past your door. In that light many are being eliminated or redone to force travelers to window shop during connections.

So I just kept hiking, past the lines, past the construction, down the escalator, through the tunnel, past the weird sculptures that are endemic to these spaces. Perhaps because it was at the end of the earth there was a little café right near the gate with no one waiting, so I pulled in. The time stamp when Mohammed dropped me off? 5:43AM. The time stamp on the receipt for the cup of coffee? 6:28AM. Forty-five minutes of steady walking at a solid clip to get to my plane.  

Other than an hour to kill it had all worked out, even if my feet were tired. And then a bonus: the airline pushed me to the front of the plane. Admittedly, on a little jet that early with few passengers, virtually everyone was either first class or had their own row, but it was still a nice gesture. As I settled into my seat one of those upgrade perks was presented, as the flight attendant offered drinks preflight. Coffee, I asked? Sorry, she said, out of order. Oh well. At least it's a short walk once we land. 

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Marc Wollin of Bedford doesn't mind flying too much. His column appears weekly via email and online on Blogspot and Substack as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.

List Inflation

You've made it through Black Friday, Small Business Saturday and Cyber Monday. You scrolled around between the stuffing and the game on Turkey Thursday, likewise between leftovers and the game on No Cute Name Sunday. And in spite of all of those opportunities to get out there and do your duty as an American consumer, you probably still haven't even started to spend money like a drunken sailor on your holiday shopping.

Well, you better get going. Because of a quirk in the calendar Thanksgiving came late this year, with its legally mandated fourth Thursday of the month placement backed into a corner among the last days of the term. Christmas, on the other hand, is the usually immovable object it always is, with a date certain of December 25. That means that this holiday shopping season is tied for the shortest in twenty years, with only 27 days from kickoff to Santa shimmying down your chimney. That's five days shorter than last year, so you are behind before you even begin.

Added to the shorter time period is that these days everybody just buys whatever they want whenever they want. Blame the smorgasbord of shopping apps from major online and physical retailers that went from convenient options to embedded lifestyle choices during the pandemic. Add to that Temu and Shein and TikTok Shop and Amazon Haul, all offering goods at cheap prices and encouraging people to gift themselves early and often. So whereas in before times someone might have mentioned they were hoping for a new scarf or water bottle or charging stand under the tree, now they just click "buy" on Tuesday and it's delivered on Thursday, with the only holiday in sight being National Apple Day. 

All that means there is less time to shop for others and less options from which to choose. Once again that annual question bubbles to the surface: what to get that special someone, a gift that will be more likely to make their eyes light up with joy, and less likely their phones light up with return codes. 

As always there is no shortage of help, even if the curation level seems to slipped. Used to be lists were made of careful selections and headlined "Top 5 Gifts" or "Best 10 Presents." Now it seems there is a faint whiff of desperation, a "throw it against the wall and see what sticks" quality about many of them. How else to explain Esquire publishing "44 Best Gift Ideas for Your Girlfriend in 2024" and "54 Gifts for Men Our Editors Recommend." Real Simple has "The 67 Best Christmas Gifts of 2024," while  CNN offered "The 77 Best Christmas Gift Ideas Of 2024 for All Your Favorite People." And Popular Mechanics bows to reality (and round numbers) with "The 100 Best Amazon Gifts Under $100 for a Prime Holiday Season." Why not just provide a link to the Chrome home page and call it a day?

The lists themselves generally target specific demographics, be it spouses, co-workers or kids. But they also get more way niche than that. There are lists for hikers (LonoLife Thai Curry Beef Bone Broth Powder, Pack of 10), Cannabis Enthusiasts ("The Art of Weed Butter" cookbook) and Beyoncé Fans (a Cowboy Carter Incense Holder). And then there's NY Magazine's "25 Red Gifts" for people who, well, like red.

While scanning those registers might indeed net you something that calls out, it also seems that there is a lot of stuff that's filler, not killer. Ursa Major Morning Mojo Bar Soap for Men is surely super special, but it's just a bar of soap. A Jargon Generator, consisting of three rotating, connected and inscribed wooden barrels, enables you to create phrases such as "align stakeholders synergistically" effortlessly. Cute, perhaps, but for $50? Then there's VIO2 Mouth Tape (a pack of 48!), to tape one's mouth shut at night to either stop a person from snoring and/or to kill them, your choice. (Query: assuming this is for your significant other, is this really a self-gift after all???) 

You just gotta keep at it. Maybe a set of hamster earrings or an Eiffel Tower biscuit cutter or Fish-shaped lemon squeezer isn't the right thing, but something else might pop up. All it takes is endless scrolling and clicking and scrolling again. Don't give up: there's a Bluetooth toothbrush just sitting there waiting for you to snap it up.

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Marc Wollin of Bedford is starting to plan to start shopping. Soon. His column appears weekly via email and online on Blogspot and Substack as well as Facebook, LinkedIn and X.