REFLECTIVE MOMENTS

Dec. 31 sanctuary in nearby ladies’ room

The old man is slowly moving towards the open door and the crying baby is waiting on the porch to be brought indoors and welcomed with open arms by all who look towards what will be new in a new year. With Christmas 2019 a few hundred days away, the next important function this year is the New Year’s Eve celebration, and maybe a free ride around the city courtesy of SGI and partners. From my recollections of New Year’s Eves past, today’s gatherings, from what I’ve heard, miss some of the excitement of those noisy events that lasted well past midnight and saw random house parties as continuations of official dining and dancing.

In small town Saskatchewan, the Dec. 31 dance was the event of the year, surpassing the regular dances, midnight lunches and trips to a vehicle or two to share some celebratory punch. This was an annual ritual, always carried out on the last day of the year, except when it fell on a Sunday. Then Saturday was the evening of festivities, with revellers showing up for church the next afternoon despite the number of punch glasses enjoyed. For Moose Jaw Express There was always a better midnight dinner on Dec. 31, with the ladies of the community chipping in with salads and special delicacies rather than egg and salmon salad sandwiches and cookies.

The community’s dance band was always in fine form, perhaps aided by whatever was in those water glasses. The piano player was adept at guiding the band through a variety of requests from old-time waltzes, polkas, bunny hops, heel and toe polka to seven step, butterfly and schotisses for quartets.

My friends enjoyed being asked to dance by the adults, but as the clock neared midnight and the band geared up for Auld Lang Syne, we always positioned ourselves together in the circle, close to the ladies’ room, so as soon as the song was over, we could tear away and hide in the facilities until all the mushy stuff was over.

That changed a bit as we grew older, but we were still selective with our greeters and quickly turned a cheek when it appeared we could not escape the good wishes for the new year from one of the bachelors.

Some friends in later years told us they would celebrate in the neighbouring town to the east, then head west to partake of the kissing and hugging again in a different time zone an hour later — getting a second chance to ring in the new year with spirited enthusiasm. Communities to the south and west of my town also held fine dances and my associates often travelled in a pack to check out those venues, and seldom had to hide in the washroom.

But then adulthood took over and long gowns and jewelry and fine dining became the evening’s celebrations. Sometimes I wished for a nearby ladies’ room but I grinned through the most overwhelming of salutations. Gradually, card games and midnight dinner at our home or at friends’ homes became the normal routine. One year we went to a dance when many widowed ladies decided Housemate and his friend were fair game and we wives sat there and grinned at their discomfort. Now the wildest activity for our New Year’s Eve is dinner out at a local restaurant, maybe a hockey game, a few games at the casino and then home to fall asleep before the ball drops on television.

But no amount of aging can take away the memories: