For once, she was right. Over the years I have spent the evening in pubs, clubs and once, even on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh. All of them were either spent in a drunken haze or in Edinburgh, frozen solid and unable to find a toilet.
In the 70s, New Year’s Eve would be passed watching Andy Stewart celebrate Hogmanay. Now we have Jools Holland, Alan Carr or some other such TV show to watch. We usually watch Jools, or Piano Blokey as it is fun to call him. Anyway, after the debacle in the Red Lion a couple of years back, New Year is to be seen in at home, on the sofa, with Jools.
New Year’s Eve dawned grey and windy, but would soon turn to what the previous 364 days will be remembered for; rain. It is funny, but in spring a drought was declared in the south of England as there had been so little rain the previous 12 months, and since then it really hasn’t stopped. The drought was lifted sometime in the autumn, probably as most people were bailing their houses and gardens out for the tenth time that year. Or something.
We didn’t get it that bad, not so much rain, and what we do get drains well into the chalk. But our gardens have suffered with too much rain and a plague of snails and slugs. The hedgerows were pretty bare this autumn, the crop of sloes failed almost completely, and so we made no sloe gin.
Once it was light we headed down to Shakespeare Beach to see the waves crashing ashore. The wind was so strong it was hard to stand up at times, but it was worth it as the wind howled and the waves crashed onto the beach and along the Prince of Wales pier. Once we were damp with spray, we headed back home for more warming coffee and another slice of Christmas Cake.
We had some stinky French cheese we had bought in Sandwich before Christmas, as well as some cheese puff things I made with some left over pastry. And beer; lots of beer.
I spent the rest of the afternoon scanning family photographs, laughing at some long-forgotten scene captured on film; dancers frozen in time or a cat in mid leap.
And so the afternoon waned into evening, darkness fell on the last day of 2012. It’s funny, most Christmases, no all Christmases, I think of my two friends, James and Chris, who were killed in 1984 in a car accident, or the moment in 1999 when I walked out on my second wife and her son, or that last Christmas I had with Dad before his heart attack in 1995. But, none of these events crossed my mind at all, not until I realised I had not thought of them. I think they are replaced by newer, better times. Its not that those events matter less to me now; they were major if not earth shattering events that marked massive changes in my life and my growth as a person.
Bad things can happen any day of the year, there was a massive crash on the M6 on Christmas morning; we read the headlines and the details and wonder what their families will make of these events. I remember watching an episode of MASH where they were trying to keep a soldier alive until midnight on Christmas so his family wouldn’t link Christmas to the death of their son. In the end they couldn’t, but changed the date on his death certificate.
We passed New Year’s Eve quietly, and put Piano Blokey on at eleven fifteen. He had various great acts on, including Petula Clarke, who at 80 has a new record out. She sang a version of Gnarls Berkley’s Crazy, and it was wonderful, well worth seeking out when the record comes out. She did a version of Downtown, of course, which is one of my favourite songs, and her version is by far the best. She does good for being 80. Adam Ant was also on, with a new band, and they cut the place up with a new tune version of Antmusic and Stand And Deliver. However, once can’t help thinking his use of a latex dressed backing singer and a voluptuous peroxide female drummer, was this to take attention from Adam who was sporting a fetching Napoleon style tri-cornered hat, in order to hide his bald head. But, he was in fine form, and that is good to see.
And the clocked ticked towards midnight, we raised a glass of Madeira, watched some more of Jools and went to bed.
New Year’s day dawned bright and with a clear blue sky. After bacon butties we went out for a walk along the cliffs in the sunshine. It was glorious, and for half an hour we lay in the long grass looking at the sky in the weak sunshine. Below us waves lapped on the base of the cliffs and ferries hurried to and from France.
That night we watched the delayed version of the new Year’s concert from Vienna; as there is no better way to celebrate the new year than with a waltz.
Happy New Year, everyone. Have a good one.
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