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My New Year's Eve

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Old 12-30-2006, 06:24 AM
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Default My New Year's Eve


THOUGHTS ON MY IMPENDING NEW YEAR'S EVE ORGY OF INTOXICATION
Or
I Never Met A Margarita Or A Drunk Woman I Didn't Like:

By the time the sun dips below the horizon and night arrives tomorrow, I will already be too drunk to drive, so I will catch a public bus to Waikiki Beach. On New Year's Eve the buses run every half hour all night long. I know because I make this same odyssey every New Year's Eve.

I love to behold drunken tourists running amok in ways they would never consider doing back in Corn Junction, Iowa, or whatever Mainland burg where they happen to live as respected pillars of the community. Watching them make fools of themselves is a lesson in the hypocrisy of American society you can't learn in any sociology class.

A bar table of women only is a sure sign they are on the prowl for hula-hula boys -- gigolo beach boys who are only too happy to give them the romantic memory of a one-night stand to take back to the Mainland.

Although I'm no beach boy, maybe even I will get lucky tomorrow night and bring home a starry-eyed wallflower or a neglected wife for a horizontal tango in bed. Any woman will look good to me since I will be seeing everything through my booze goggles. Of course I will use a phony name like Charles U. Farley and tell the woman I'm a tourist borrowing the apartment from a friend who is traveling in Asia. Because I want no sticky entanglements after the dirty deed is done.

Two weird things will happen at the stroke of midnight: (1)Drunken strangers will give each other sloppy kisses and sing "Auld Lange Sein" off key (2)The sky will explode with fireworks.

In Michigan where I grew up, we only had fireworks on the Fourth of July. The first New Year's Eve I spent in Hawaii 34 years ago I was stoned on pot and leaving a Blood, Sweat and Tears music concert when I literally jumped like at the sound of explosions as if I had been shot. In my fuzzy state of mind I thought Pearl Harbor was happening all over again.

Early that morning I caught a ride on a motorcycle back to Hickam Air Force Base where I had a free bed during a 2-week leave, unaware that my favorite rock band (Santana) was staging an all-night concert inside of Diamond Head crater. The next afternoon I awoke with a crushing hangover and enviously listened to wild tales of drugs, booze and naked sexual debauchery from other airmen who had attended the Santana concert. A missed opportunity to indulge in disgusting behavior!

On New Year's Day I will nurse my hangover by taking a leisurely swim in the ocean and baking the alcohol out of my system by lying on hot beach sand. Then I will return home and watch one college football bowl game after another on TV until I practically go blind. I will make no New Year's resolutions except one: to do it all over again next New Year's Eve.

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