Watched the “Ball” come down in Times Square to welcome the New Year for the umpteenth time. Is it my imagination or are the crowds getting bigger each year? What a mind-boggling mass of humanity. On the news yesterday I heard that the masses started arriving around 2:30. My question every year is where do they pee? Let’s see, if my math is correct that’s at least ten hours in the street. They say that Camels can hang in there for a long time, but come on, ten hours? There’s certainly no men in that crowd with enlarged prostates. Speaking from experience, two hours is about it for me.
While on the subject of the Times Square celebration I have to express my anger at the TV Networks. We stay at home old timer’s sacrifice our precious sleep time and labor to stay up to see the New Year in. We get one short glimpse of the throng and then it’s off to commercial time. After five minutes of the usually stupid commercials they finally get back to what we’ve been waiting hours for and humor us with a 1-1/2 minute view before the “Ball’s descent. You would think they would have a little mercy on this once a year event. After all they’ve had the whole year to saturate us with endless car and drug commercials. To tell the truth, without all the car commercials we probably would have to go back to radio.
By the way, I admire Dick Clark for his courage and dedication to the tradition he established, but don’t you think it’s time to pass the baton?
Well our illustrious weather forecasters did it again; they filled the grocery stores again as people loaded up the larders against that New England terror, the dreaded Nor’easter. Even my cautious wife loaded up the thermos with hot water (we don’t have gas), got out the candles, lanterns and flashlights in preparation for the worst. Let me tell you, my back is aching from clearing off that ¼” of white. I can’t think of another job where being wrong so often continues to be rewarded, well maybe politics and sports.
Looks like I’m back on the bitch wagon again. Till next time.
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