HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY!
Friday is New Years Day, and I might not get to a public facility to post my most precious New Year's greetings to you and yours and the people who live with you, the bum at the 7/11, grandma, your ex-wife, and my Jews.
It is a different night, New Years Eve, than it was when my parents would get so goddamned dressed up, I thought maybe they were leaving home for good, maybe to make it in Vegas. My Mom would wear a beautiful sequin gown, having had her hair done that afternoon (wash, set, comb out, whatever else the girls do in the beauty parlor, and look like Elizabeth Taylor).
Dad, who was a locksmith and came home filthy most nights (Mom made him bathe before supper) because he worked 10 hours a day to make a living for a wife and four kids who spent money like he was old money. I mean we spent the money he earned in that little key shop like the gravy train would never end.
Back to New Year's Eve. The old man would put on his finest suit (he had THREE!), take a long bath, then a shower, put on some of that cologne Mom gave him for his last birthday, and when both were ready to leave, they looked like movie stars. I really want to say MF'n movie stars, but both parents are dead, and c'mon...respect, dudes!
And once the baby-sitter arrived, Ma and Pa Hollywood would kiss us goodnight, tell the girl we could stay up until midnight to watch the ball in Times Square, then it was off to bed. She was usually asleep before then (we had ugly baby-sitters who couldn't get a date) and my little sister and me would stay up past Midnight, watch Johnny, or even Guy Lombardo, and then drift off to near death, in case some madman came into the house. After all the stupid baby-sitter was asleep. We could have been killed every year, for pete's sake, Goddamn it!
I don't know what time the folks got home. Sometimes I would wake up a little, and hear them trying to make it up the stairs (Dad wasn't much of a drinker..or dancer, come to think of it. I wonder what the hell he did at the country club?). But Mom, would kick out the jams on New Year's, and I don't think she was ready for the new year until about the third of January. But she loved the holiday. And I miss it.
What do we do now that we're older than our folks were in their prime? Fall asleep about ten, masturbate to the radio (tv is broken) and pee in bed, just for old times sake.
We don't celebrate like they used too.
Happy New Year, my dear friends (and enemies..what the hell, it's New Year's!). Let's hope 2010 is a shorter year than 2009. This one was a stone M.....
See y'all in hell.
Joe Postove
It is a different night, New Years Eve, than it was when my parents would get so goddamned dressed up, I thought maybe they were leaving home for good, maybe to make it in Vegas. My Mom would wear a beautiful sequin gown, having had her hair done that afternoon (wash, set, comb out, whatever else the girls do in the beauty parlor, and look like Elizabeth Taylor).
Dad, who was a locksmith and came home filthy most nights (Mom made him bathe before supper) because he worked 10 hours a day to make a living for a wife and four kids who spent money like he was old money. I mean we spent the money he earned in that little key shop like the gravy train would never end.
Back to New Year's Eve. The old man would put on his finest suit (he had THREE!), take a long bath, then a shower, put on some of that cologne Mom gave him for his last birthday, and when both were ready to leave, they looked like movie stars. I really want to say MF'n movie stars, but both parents are dead, and c'mon...respect, dudes!
And once the baby-sitter arrived, Ma and Pa Hollywood would kiss us goodnight, tell the girl we could stay up until midnight to watch the ball in Times Square, then it was off to bed. She was usually asleep before then (we had ugly baby-sitters who couldn't get a date) and my little sister and me would stay up past Midnight, watch Johnny, or even Guy Lombardo, and then drift off to near death, in case some madman came into the house. After all the stupid baby-sitter was asleep. We could have been killed every year, for pete's sake, Goddamn it!
I don't know what time the folks got home. Sometimes I would wake up a little, and hear them trying to make it up the stairs (Dad wasn't much of a drinker..or dancer, come to think of it. I wonder what the hell he did at the country club?). But Mom, would kick out the jams on New Year's, and I don't think she was ready for the new year until about the third of January. But she loved the holiday. And I miss it.
What do we do now that we're older than our folks were in their prime? Fall asleep about ten, masturbate to the radio (tv is broken) and pee in bed, just for old times sake.
We don't celebrate like they used too.
Happy New Year, my dear friends (and enemies..what the hell, it's New Year's!). Let's hope 2010 is a shorter year than 2009. This one was a stone M.....
See y'all in hell.
Joe Postove
posted by Mr. Liberty at 1:45 PM
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