BLOBBY'S BLOG

5...4...3...2...zzzzzzzzzzzzz

I've never been a huge fan of New Year's Eve. The night always seems so forced. I learned to tell time months ago and I certainly don't need to be told when to kiss someone, though 12:00 mn does give one an opportunity to try to plant your lips on someone whom you might not have a chance with otherwise. I don't remember actually doing that, but it's an option to keep open. Or was.

It has been a while since I've ventured out on this night. I've alluded to here before that I don't drink as much as I used to - actually, barely at all (but I guess that's all relative). Even when I partake, I'm usually at home. But it dawned on me that almost everyone out on the road during the early morning of January 1st is drunk drunk drunk. Who needs that?? I've done my share of driving while intoxicated and (thankfully) never got stopped or had an accident. On a night like tonite, you're kind of just axing for it. I'm happy staying at home, fixing a good dinner and throw in a DVD. Chances are I'm in bed well before midnight.

Two NYEs in particular stand out for me. One kind of funny - one kind of not and both good examples on why to stay in. Let's start with the latter.

About 10 yrs ago, Denton and I were out with my boss (at the time) and his wife. Completely low-key night of beer, wings and darts. Not the crappy electronic ones - but real ones which I had purchased for a store that sold only darts. I learned the art of the double-in/double-out. I never punctured anyone with a stray shot.

Anyhoo....we were sitting in Pacers drinking and I noticed walking in a girl woman I had known since I was in 6th grade. We were inseparable for years. Scarily, we were a lot alike. After she left OSU we didn't have much contact, though I did drag Morty to her wedding. She married a man I had never met....some former Army guy....all of 5'4". I intercepted Ann and her husband, John (?) as they walked in. She was glad to see me, but they were in a 'rush'. Soon they were to rush right back out.

It turns out that John didn't like me much and wasn't going to be in the same establishment that I inhabited. Lord knows what he had heard, but apparently he was jealous of me. ME?!!

Going by stories I had heard after their divorce, my guess is she got the crap beaten out of her later that night. Probably not because of me, I was just a reason to do it. Apparently it happened quite a bit. Years later, we'd catch up and she told me all about it. Then the evening just deteriorated: why didn't I love her? why was I with Denton? why couldn't it have I have been with her instead? How do you answer these questions? I didn't need a psychology degree to see that this was a fall-out of her abuse and divorce, but I couldn't get her to see that. It ended badly. We haven't talked or seen each other again. Oy.

The other story is on a different end of the speculum spectrum.

I was checking with Morty the other day about a trip we made to Chicago for NYE. We both have some shared memories of said trip - but for the life of us we don't know a year or who may or may not have gone with us. I do know Denton was there - but we can't remember if Mitchell was. Our discussion got to the point where Morty emailed me: 'Did this trip actually happen, or did we make it all up!?'

A goooood and legitimate question. Truth be told - we had a few of these trips. Here's what we do agree on - or at least pieced together:

It was COLD. The night was 12 below zero, without the wind! We were told the L didn't run after midnight - and we believed whomever told us. It was a lie. After some party we walked and walked and walked. I had an illicit substance in a pocket that I would have gladly shown to any police officer just to feel the warmth of the back of a squad car. But there were none to be found - it was too cold out for the cops! Naturally, being our (read: queer) culture, one wore things like jeans ripped in the right places....and shirts with the sleeves ripped off and wife-beaters underneath those. Not much protection against the Windy City elements. We were morons.

I certainly can't won't comment on anything my traveling companions may or may not have done, but I could for me and it's not pretty. I do remember meeting up with some Chicago friends at Manhole the next evening. To really get in, you needed leather or to at least be shirtless. Well we didn't own leather - so in subzero temps, the shirts came off. UGH. Not pretty and not fun. Manhole is closed now and I have no doubt it was probably the result of something we did there that night. It's hard to say.

I do remember outside the Manhole running into an old Columbus resident, Dan Stain. Oh how he went on and on about a friend of mine, Jon. "Jon this. Jon that. Blah blah blah." So, I go on to update him on where Jon is (oh oh oh Morty, I just realized after writing this - this trip had to be after 1992, since Jon S. had moved that year!) and what he was doing. Dan looked at me quizzically, then said, "I'm talking about John C." It never would have occurred to me he was talking of 'John/Sheba'. I immediately lost interest in the conversation and just moved on. I'm like that.

So, I figured this many details had to come from a real excursion. I would venture to say it was a fun trip, even if we don't quite remember it. But I am way too old for that kind of weekend now.

Yeah, dinner and a DVD sounds good for tonite. I'll hear the gunfire when it hits midnight.

UPDATE: Rebecca is quite right. The first New Years in Cleveland (which was 2 days after moving here), I went with Rebecca and her brother to a Public Square celebration. We relied on public transportation (which Homer Simpson says is for 'losers' and 'lesbians'). That was fine on the way down - not so much on the way back. Getting on a train was like getting into a Who concert in Cincinnati! Then there were no taxis or busses at our stop. A good 2-3 mile hike in unshoveled shin-deep snow back to Paul's house. How could I forget that???? Make that three incidents just to stay warm and cozy @ home.