How to celebrate New Year’s Eve like a middle-aged man with high cholesterol
Make a list of your goals for 2025. Know you’re unlikely to follow through with most of them; know the act is largely symbolic; know your ass is never waking up early to exercise.
Don’t choose an outfit. The word “outfit” seems to imply that you’re going out for New Year’s Eve. You’re not. Trust that a Jethro Tull T-shirt and dirty sweatpants will be sufficient to shuttle you into the New Year.
Print out the schedule for “The Twilight Zone” Marathon that you will spend most of the next 48 hours watching. With “Hocus Pocus & Frisby” and “The Masks” airing back-to-back at 6:15 p.m., you will need to clear the evening schedule.
Take an edible before planting yourself on the couch for a few hours of “The Twilight Zone” marathon. Even if you nap during “The Grave” with Lee Marvin and Lee Van Cleef, you’re likely to wake up.
Make a list of your goals for 2025. Know you’re unlikely to follow through with most of them; know the act is largely symbolic; know your ass is never waking up early to exercise.
Drink a glass of champagne after midnight to dispel any lingering thoughts of a Dry January. Cross it off your list.
But don’t give up all hope. Make one of your goals to be less cynical next year, even if there is no way to quantify the results—especially if there is no way to quantify the results.
Plan to go out with your spouse and meet some friends in a quiet bar in the middle of the afternoon. Your friends are also middle-aged and they’re also looking forward to a quiet evening at home.
While having drinks at a bar with your friends and other people your age, be sure to mention that you’re not going downtown to celebrate. Make sure to utter the following phrases: “The cops will be everywhere tonight” and “It’s Amateur Night” and “Who wants to deal with the crowds anyway?”
Reminisce with your friends about the various New Year’s Eve parties you attended in your youth. Try not to get nostalgic. Who wants to deal with the crowds anyway?
Get home in time to watch “Hocus Pocus & Frisby” and “The Masks.” Make a decadent dinner with your spouse, knowing you’ve both resolved to lose weight in 2025. It’s your last meal. Stuff yourself accordingly with fried foods and heavy cheeses.
At 11:30 p.m. turn the channel from “The Twilight Zone” marathon to one of the network stations showing the ball drop in Times Square, a station with a countdown clock on the corner of the screen. Ask your spouse if Dick Clark is still alive. Don’t look it up.
At midnight, kiss your spouse. Uncork the champagne. Go to bed at 12:15 a.m. Good luck in 2025.
You can reach Nate Graziano at ngrazio5@yahoo.com