Ok, ok, so nobody actually lost an eye on New Year’s eve…
But, the Son In Law guy lost the tip of his thumb!
Around six Melinda and I hopped into the car and made the very short drive down to the Masonic Temple for its New Year’s gathering.
It seemed awfully slow for a party, but that isn’t only because of the number of people who turned out for it. It also has to due with the fact that our building is far too large for our needs. It was built in the 1920’s, a time when Masons believed that Freemasonry would continue exploding in growth forever. So, it was clearly designed to serve a lodge with a thousand or fifteen-hundred members well. But, of course, those strange growth predictions were incorrect, so this huge facility exists to serve a Lodge with about one hundred Masons. That leaves an awful lot of empty space!
But it was good. Oldest daughter and now thumbless son-in-law guy (ok, before you get worried, I’m exaggerating here, he still has his thumb, he just lost the tip) came. Some friends old and new came, and we had a great time talking while we were there. Thumbless SIL and I put away a pint of bourbon, and then we had to leave for our second party of the night, over at the oldest daughter’s house a couple of blocks away.
So, it’s just about time for the ball to drop. We’ve all been munching on fancy appetizers and enjoying some wine. All except for the oldest daughter of course, for as recounted here earlier, it seems that the newest granddaughter is growing in her belly.
Melinda is in the kitchen opening some champagne.
I hear, ‘cause I’m the listening sort, Thumbless SIL start talking about a reality TV show he watches where the waiters open champagne bottles with a sword.
Now of course, the ladies in the kitchen jump on this idea. (All except for Melinda of course. Melinda’s made it alive into her fifties by properly discerning what will render one thumbless and what will not.
But, by now, the poor guy is stuck. He’s put the possibility of opening the champagne with a flourish, with a sword no less out into the world, and the young women are egging him on.
Now, I think the fellow would make a good Mason, but he isn’t inclined towards it, so hence he is not a Knight Templar. Hence, he doesn’t actually have a sword.
So, he snags a nice, sharp butcher knife. A good big one.
And he takes a bottle of champagne from Melinda.
Out to the back yard he heads, young women in tow, to see the show.
I’m still minding my own business, just listening to all this go down. Now, I suppose I could have pointed out that maybe it wasn’t a good idea. That maybe, on the TV show, the producers do things to the cork before the scene is shot to make it actually work. And hey, they might have listened to me, I am after all the patriarch of the outfit, but maybe not, maybe they would have just declared me an old fart trying to destroy their fun instead. Probably it would have been the latter, it would have been the latter for me when I was their age.
Plus, I wouldn’t have come to the discussion from a place of strength, considering that I bought my granddaughter a Red Ryder BB Gun for Christmas, so she’s sure to be down one eye soon.
So, I just kicked back and listened as all this was going on around me.
A couple minutes later, middle daughter and her not thumbless husband come bounding in the back door. She’s talking about finding a strainer to filter the glass out of the champagne.
So, I peak my head into the kitchen.
Yep, she’s got about the bottom half of a champagne bottle in her hand, the upper half nowhere in sight.
I’m thinking to myself that maybe the bottle of champagne should just be tossed away, one probably doesn’t really want to drink the stuff if glass had to be filtered out of it, but once again I remained silent, and this time it worked out better, for they quickly came to that conclusion on their own.
Very shortly after that particular bottle hit the garbage can, in comes the oldest daughter and thumbless SIL. They mumble something about his wound, and head upstairs.
Time goes by. The ball drops. No one remembered to drink a champagne toast.
What to do, what to do? The host is damn near dead, so is the party over? One wonders such things.
But then the oldest daughter comes down the stairs. Asks for a ride to the grocery store. Needs to buy some superglue to stick the end of a thumb back on.
Now this decision, I figure is right. I’ve been aware that docs use superglue type stuff for wounds sometimes nowadays. Plus, the oldest daughter spent an awful lot of years in higher education, learning how to fix broken bodies, and she didn’t go to Harvard, so I figure she probably learned something.
So, I don’t have to say anything.
Given that I don’t have to say anything, I did of course offer to go upstairs and pee on it while she was away. Apparently that particular medical intervention wasn’t needed.
So, they are soon back from the store, superglue in hand.
Awhile later, back downstairs thumbless SIL comes. Now he’s got a big thumb, all bandaged up. And of course, a fine story to tell.
Melinda and I wandered back home, for parties apparently peeter out once one loses a thumb.
And that’s how we spent our New Years Eve!
I give your New Years party 2 thumbs up 👍 👍
O M G
Well MW that is the best story I have ever read at 5am.......and I tend to finally fall asleep by 4am
It was my first time in about 55 years where I fell asleep during the sunday night NFL game and woke up at 2am on New Years Day.
Now I could blame the football game but more than likely that "officially over the hill" thing instead.
Missed watching the ball drop in NYC and I used to watch every time zone around the planet.
This time all I saw was the fireworks in Dubai at the worlds tallest building that is over a half mile tall.
And the only reason I saw that was the oldest and retired airline pilot son of my also now retired partner at CERN lives there now.
Always a bit funny hearing my Scottish friend speaking French.....or even English with that accent he never lost and he is 83 now and moved from Scotland to Geneva in 1967 to work at CERN.
Not sure if his son speaks any Arabic with his Scottish accent but probably just enough to live in Dubai
But not long after and before 9pm our time I was asleep and for the first time since they have showed it on tv I missed seeing that ball drop in NYC. (ok not that I was around in 1907 but for me more like 1970)
So I also have to give you those two thumbs up MW
I hope you have a GREAT 2024