It's midnight somewhere and I have something to say

Write what you know.

I have fought this advice throughout my life.  Surely "they" know more than me.   Most times I feel like I got nothin'.  A lot of the reason I got nothin' is due to living life.  Work, family, home - all very time consuming.  As I was living the uphill climb, I was just trying to stay current, maintain relevancy, survive. At the late middle-age crest of life, I felt as if I should care more and grappled with how to write words in a connected, appropriate and positive tone. Now, as I acquaint myself with the benefits of AARP, I am beginning to realize I might have something.  As my long-term memory sharpens and I place little importance on the short term stuff, it feels as if I have things to say.

I will write what I know.

It is December 31, 2018 at 9:43 pm.  I will most likely be in bed within the hour, and loving it.

My best memory of NYE past was 1999-2000.  We were all convinced life as we knew it would cease in the new millennium and we threw caution to the wind.  The kids were 13 and 10 and had set their sights on watching the ball drop in Times Square, along with Dick Clark.  They were going to stay awake, welcome the new year, and experience the millennial swing with the adults.  We opened a bottle of Brut and everyone, yes everyone, drank up and why not?  Remember, 2000 represented the dark-side; we weren't even sure that it would matter. It was the best.  We laughed, readied ourselves, counted down, and then held our breath.  Guess what?  Nothing happened.  Life went on and we still have the emptied, dated, signed bottle of Brut.  And the memories.

Come back to 2018 and my impending bed time.  It is okay.  Apparently, Netflix has given parents and those hosting kids for NYE, the ability to set their own time. Netflix offers the option of moving midnight earlier in the evening, complete with an official countdown to the new year.  Once the kids are tricked into thinking they have entered 2019, they can all snuggle into their sleeping bags for a good night sleep.  This is the politically correct NYE of 2018-2019.  We lie to the kids, they don't get Brut, and they won't have the empty bottle to show their friends that they actually survived the entry into the new year. 

I'm heading to bed.  I will turn on Netflix to find a countdown to an imagined midnight and hold onto the hope that I will have more of something to say in 2019.