Most of my early New Year's celebrations originated in the company of my Mema - my maternal grandmother, Carolyn Yarbrough. My parents would be off to ring in the New Year with friends, and we would spend the night with Mema. After the death of my grandfather, Papa Paul, in 1967 - these New Year's spend-the-night parties served three purposes: (1) They provided easy "boy-sitting" for my parents; (2) They provided a place for us to chill away from home lest we accidentally burn home down; and (3) They prevented Mema from ringing in the New Year . . . alone.
Spending New Year's with Mema allowed us to accomplish the impossible . . . stay up until Midnight. We had never done that before. We accomplished it with her. Even if we dozed on the sofa, she nudged us awake just before Midnight so we could see the New Year ring in. I'll never forget the New Year's Eve that I managed to stay awake until Midnight. It was a big accomplishment . . . right up there with eating my first quart of chocolate ice cream in one sitting.
Mema introduced us to the Big Swing of Guy Lomardo and His Royal Canadians. Before there was Dick Clark's Rockin Eve (embarrasingly sad and undignified last night, by the way), there was Guy Lombardo, who brought his band to New York on New Year's Eve for the drop of the "big ball." No matter what we were watching on television, Mema switched it over to Guy Lombardo about 11:30.
About 11:50 or so, Mema would prepare "the toast," which was a glass of cold milk. Each of us had a glass and we would all stand and shout the countdown to "Happy New Year!" Then we would clink our little "jelly glasses" (jelly came in glasses that you could wash and continue using) together and chug that milk down. Yep, Mema clinked hers with us, too.
Once I could drive, I started spending my New Year's Eve in other places, either at home or with friends. My close friends and I even began to throw New Year's Eve parties once we got to college. But, I need to confess something to you: I still sneak around and drink a bit of milk just after the clock strikes 12. I did last night as a matter of fact.
Never will I forget how my grandmother took a simple little holiday expression and made it really special for a small band of goofy boys. <^>< 2010.
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