Christmas is past, and we are set to begin a new year. Have you ever noticed that the holiday celebrating the start of a new year is always written in a possessive form? New Year’s. Had I not drawn attention to it, you might not have noticed. We celebrate a new year, but the holiday is distinctly referred to as New Year’s. Perhaps it is simply from years of referring to New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day – which would be possessive – that we simply became accustomed to distinguishing it in its possessive form. Pure conjecture on my part.
My significant early recollections of New Year’s came after I could drive myself to parties. Back then, before global warming had noticeably changed weather patterns for those of us not in the climate science community, it was frequently quite cold and often snowy. Snow-slick roads became increasingly difficult with each new party I hopped to. By the time I was in college – and a veteran partier – I began referring to New Year’s Eve as “amateur night,” and I would be more cautious, even staying in one year with near blizzard conditions.
I once attended the ultimate New Year’s Eve party – Times Square. I was on a consulting project in New Jersey, about an hour’s drive from New York City. Two other staff members and I drove to the city for the celebration. We dropped off the female member of our trio, who was staying with friends, and the other guy and I managed to get a room at a hotel our company used for most of its staff on New York projects.
Throngs of people packed together for blocks. We positioned in the area of an on-the-street reporter. The camera spotlights came on periodically, the reporter reported, someone was interviewed, and we might have been visible standing in the background. Three specific things stand out in my memory.
First, a group of about six adolescents formed a “train” and would weave through the crowd. That stands out because, as they passed my colleague, they picked his pocket. They only got a folded piece of paper with some notes he had made. But I was struck by how quickly one of the young men was able to reach up under my colleague’s overcoat, under his suit coat, and into his front pant pocket as the “train” snaked through the crowd. Of course, my colleague realized a hand had gone into his pant pocket, but the crowd had closed in behind the “train” before he could react.
Second, as the crowd chanted the countdown to midnight, I realized that we got to the “Happy New Year” cheer before the ball had completed its full descent, and with nearly two seconds remaining on the official countdown clock. I have noticed since that this is normal, and not just at Times Square. Try it. Put something in the microwave and turn away when the timer hits 10 seconds. Do your countdown. There will be so many times that you are early or late, that when you occasionally count zero simultaneously with the ding of the microwave, you’ll become giddy . . . well, maybe not giddy.
Third, the danger of all the people at Times Square stood out, but not in terms of muggings (nor even the occasional pickpocket). Within minutes after midnight, hundreds of thousands of people wanted to leave for nightclubs, parties, etc. Police had sawhorse style blockades to restrict and divert movement. Unfortunately, these barriers created artificial bottlenecks. As people slowed to funnel through the passages, those behind pressed harder against those in front of them. I worried that if someone fell they could be trampled to death. A guy a few feet from me stumbled; I reached out to hold him up, but the undulation of the crowd torqued my arm and shoulder. I realized that it would be difficult to fall – the crowd would literally carry you along.
When someone occasionally expresses a wish that they could celebrate New Year’s at Times Square, I admit that I’ve done it, checked it off a list I didn’t have. And I am emphatic that I have absolutely no interest in repeating the experience.
Despite its tradition of revelry, one New Year’s introduced a degree of concern – Y2K. We became aware of a computer code issue with the potential of shutting down societies around the globe. The transition from 1999 to 2000 (Y2K) posed a unique problem for legions of computer programs. In its infancy, computer data processing and storage capacity were at a premium; hence, computer programs were written to minimize storage needs. Virtually all programming was being written to chronicle events in the 20th century. All dates, then, were 19xx (e.g., 1959, the year Grace Hopper’s work helped create COBOL). Since all dates were 19xx, the 19 was dropped to save memory, so 1959 was expressed as 59.
With the introduction of the year 2000, every line of computer code which assumed a two-digit year in 19xx would suddenly think it was 1900, not 2000. If you were born in 1960, instead of being 40 years old, for example, you would be a negative 60; that does not compute! (Even my mother would not lie about her age by such a large margin! When my son was about 14, he asked my age one day. After reflecting on my answer, he asked how Grandma could be younger than me.)
The alarming concern prompted many dire predictions. There were people, for example, who cashed out their bank accounts for fear that banks would shut down. Some hoarded food, flashlights, and batteries. Some bought generators. The federal government passed the Year 2000 Information and Readiness Disclosure Act to monitor and coordinate efforts to address the problem. Old COBOL programmers made boodles of money correcting code.
Major TV networks reported on progress. On New Year’s Eve, they began showing celebrations around the globe, beginning with those closest to the International Date Line. You’re reading this – we survived. Computer technology has become so pervasive in the years since that new Fords were described a few years ago as rolling computers, and now we cannot buy new cars for wont of computer chips. Y2K crisis averted, but we need to work on this supply chain issue!
Having lived through many a New Year’s, and being revelried-out, I am more contemplative and curious. How did January 1st become New Year’s Day? History.com provided some background:
- The earliest recorded festivities in honor of a new year’s arrival date back some 4,000 years to ancient Babylon. For the Babylonians, the first new moon following the vernal equinox—the day in late March with an equal amount of sunlight and darkness—heralded the start of a new year.
- [I]n 46 B.C. the emperor Julius Caesar introduced the Julian calendar, which closely resembles the more modern Gregorian calendar that most countries around the world use today. … As part of his reform, Caesar instituted January 1 as the first day of the year, partly to honor the month’s namesake: Janus, the Roman god of beginnings, whose two faces allowed him to look back into the past and forward into the future. Romans celebrated by offering sacrifices to Janus, exchanging gifts with one another, decorating their homes with laurel branches and attending raucous parties.
It seems that in my younger days I followed at least one of the traditions introduced nearly two millennia ago – I attended some “raucous parties”! My goal now is to watch on TV the Times Square ball drop at midnight, 11:00 central time!
As with every celebration, traditions abound. From special meals to particular parties to special places with a giant ball of Waterford crystal that slowly descends. One interesting tradition is a kiss at midnight and the singing of “Auld Lang Syne.” Its attraction is surely its call to look back, to remember your friends and the past you have shared, as you prepare to step into a new future defined by the new year.
Mike's Fountain Pen 