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.