New Year's Eve Droppings

This year, I rang in the New Year with about a million other crazy people, and oh, what an experience it was. I don't even know where to begin.

I suppose I'll start at a logical place to start: the end. Watching the ball drop in person in Times Square is an experience that everyone should have, if only to make it better on TV. You see, I've always found the ball dropping rather underwhelming. First of all, it's not really dropped. It's slowly lowered. Until this year, I've always thought that was pretty boring, but it makes more sense than candy rabbits at Easter, so I went with it. But let me tell you, when you have literally been standing in the the freezing cold in rain, snow, and hail for over 9 hours, seeing that ball begin to creep down the pole is the single most exciting event in your life. The birth of my first child probably won't even match it. Sure, I'll have been waiting 9 months instead of 9 hours, but at least I won't have been standing outside in the cold the whole time.

I also found it interesting that this year the New Year's sponsor, Nivea, took "pimping" their product to a whole new level. Not only did they want you to give them money for their products so you could have soft lips to "Kiss and Be Kissed," but they gave the crowds a bunch of pimp hats. Had T-Pain showed up, he would have had the smallest hat in the crowd for the first time in his life. I didn't mind, though. Those things were surprisingly good at keeping me warm and dry.

I also have to say that the New Year's celebration you see on TV is one of the most phony things around. They call it "the biggest party in the world," but it's also the most dead party in the world (until the cameras are around, then all of a sudden everyone has energy). At one point my friends and I were discussing how quiet it was, an we decided that if I were to yell, I would be heard over everything else. Then I proved it. Also, you'd think that the various bands (who I saw at least twice each, since you have to be there when they warm up in order to be there when they perform) would be performing on a stage in front of the crowd, but they're not. No, they're playing for a crowd of about 20 or 30 people who somehow got into the middle section, and the other thousands of us who are crammed on the side are really just watching it on TV like everyone else.

Despite all the repeated performances, the sardine-like crowding, the long waiting, and the weather, I'm glad I was there, because now I can brag about how awesome I am because I was stupid enough to do it.