I clearly remember last New Year's because the entire world was in a discussion about how to say "2010." Before, we knew 2009 was "two-thousand and nine" because we couldn't say "twenty-oh-nine," like we said "nineteen-ninety-nine." Somehow, "two-thousand and ten" did not sound right, so people began to use "twenty-ten."
Now, I suppose we'll continue with "twenty-eleven." Agreed?
In the eighties, we went country-western dancing once a month with a couples group. One of our favorite places was a good old honky-tonk named the Crystal Chandelier in a nearby town. One New Year's Eve, a very young George Strait and his band Ace-in-the-Hole were performing, and I couldn't wait to see him in person. We did little dancing that night because visitors packed the place wall-to-wall, standing room only. My best friend and I left our husbands against the back wall and decided we'd worm our way through the crowd to stand right in front of the stage. This was the one and only time I acted like a groupie.
No, I take that back. That same friend and I skipped out of school--and we were the teachers!--and drove to Dallas to see Bruce Springsteen and his Born in the USA tour in the Cotton Bowl. We stood on our chairs the entire concert. During the performance, some smoky odor kept choking me. I asked my friend, "What is that horrible smell? " Her answer, "Marijuana." How did she know that and I didn't. Hmm.
I digress.
I know a woman who performs a rather odd New Year's Eve ritual. Exactly at midnight, no matter the weather, she runs out to her front yard and drops whatever she wears on the bottom down to bare skin. Then, she sits on the grass and sings some college fight song. Sorry, I do not remember which university she loved. Perhaps it's best we don't mention it.
Fresh water springs form a river right in the middle of the town in which I live. The spring water bubbles up over a large area, which is dammed up forming a small lake and waterfall near a restaurant. The river is a beloved natural resource here, cherished by all the citizens. The water stays a constant 72 degrees year round. In the summer, during high temperatures, the water feels very cold. During the winter, even our mild low temperatures make the water seem a little warm.
Tomorrow, a crowd will gather on the banks of the river near the university to watch hardy souls jump in the river. This is not a nude dipping as I've heard about in some liberal parts of our nation. No, ma'am, this is conservative country, and we don't allow nude swimming here! However, if that is your cup of tea, you need not go any farther than about 25 miles NW to a popular waterfall and pool lovingly nicknamed "Hippie Hollow." There, my friends, you can probably do whatever you want. I wouldn't know.
I've never been there.
At least I don't remember if I have.
I digress again.
You might think I'm reminiscing about the good old days, and that I miss them. Such is not the case. I'm perfectly happy where I am in life, almost glad I don't feel the need to go out and party to bring in a New Year. I'm always glad to see the end of a year; whether it was good or bad is of little importance to me. What I do love though, is the fact we have a NEW year, a beginning, a starting over, of sorts.
As an author, I appreciate that publishers close up shop for a week or two, allowing their editors, artists, and other employees to take time off to relax.
It's a time of renewal for them, as well as the rest of us, the authors.
To each of you, I wish you a Happy and Prosperous New Year. Remember, we are the luckiest people in the world in many ways--especially in that we are free to write and seek publication. Good luck to all!
Celia Yeary-Romance...and a little bit 'o Texas
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