This is a post for Blog of the week by Silver Bloggers where we look back to the past and remember what happened in 1992 for New Years eve, comparing it with the coming year end.
Fortunately it's easy for me to remember. Unfortunately I have no photos. I had quite a bit happening in my life, such as having left my husband for another man, (yes I was one of those people you love to hate), and leaving one wedding band for another wedding band where I was a singer.
Having been in bands most of those years leading up to that year, meant that I had to work for all New Year's eves. Working in a band for these occasions, was far better that spending money on tickets to a gala .
That year I joined a band that did New Year's eve functions that were always sold out. The boys in the band were son's of home builders, so they had skills to build things. They decided to turn the stage into a tropical like cabana adorned with palm fronds and torches.
The greatest part was, that after the first set, wearing fancy evening clothes, we all got changed into shorts and flip flops. This was totally up my alley. We happened to do a long Beach boys set which got people pretty excited. By now they had quite a few cocktails in them. Actually so did I.
The bonus of our gigs, besides a big wad of cash, was that we could eat and drink all we wanted included in our contract. At midnight we had far too many bottles of champagne on the table.
My father was alone a long time his life after my mother passed when I was a kid, so I would tell him to sneak in before midnight and I would get him a beer. It was so crowded that nobody noticed. He did this for a few years in a row. We happened to play down the street from his house. This is sad but New Year's eve as an adult was the only time I offered a hug to my father. I just didn't grow up huggy and kissy. It didn't mean there wasn't love. There was.
I must say that coincidently the year 1992, chosen as the earliest, for blog of the week, was the best New year working that I ever had. Not the best New year though. The only times I was celebrating New year's eve, was out of the country.
1999 year's end was in Acapulco Mexico on the beach bare foot at a restaurant dancing in the sand after eating and drinking. We had the Y2K scare and wondered if the world would end. I live to tell. In 2006 Marc and I landed in Cairo Egypt on New Year's eve. That was very weird. All everybody did was walk the streets. In 2019 we spent New Year's eve walking the streets of Bangkok, which was the best ever. We didn't make it until midnight.
I have had very few adult years where I didn't work on New Year's eve. I could count them on one and a half hands.
Out of the last ten years Marc and I have worked as line cooks in a couple of different restaurants. In the first one, when New Year's eve came, it meant you were going to be sandblasted with non stop orders. We had a saying for that which I will refrain from telling. A co worker used to say, "shoot first ask questions later!" We didn't care about good tips or pay. We would have rather crawled into a cave and hidden from society, but we had no choice.
Last year we worked at our current restaurant job, doing take out and deliveries We were home and in bed before midnight. This year we will do the same but we are staying up later these days.
Marc and I are not into any kind of celebrations anymore. We don't have friends other than co workers and Hivers. It's over. We could care less about it now. Things are so unpredictable at this point that we just want to get by. However what is absolutely predictable is that on the eve of 2022, we will be doing what we always do after work. Having a glass of wine and late night dinner, then going to bed.
That could seem sad to some but I would not want to go back to the midnight moment where you have to say "Happy New Year" to a bunch of people you could care less about. Plus the awkward kissy huggy thing.
I guess I've become a New Year's Grinch.
