The above will be the first piece of art that I finish in the new year. I started it yesterday. That poor pumpkin has been sitting in my studio since before Halloween believe it or not, and I am just now getting around to drawing it. That’s a butterfly sitting on the pumpkin. Imagine how he feels. In case you ‘re wondering, that funny looking thing (that I forgot to move before taking the picture) that’s in front of the drawing is an upside-down pot on a light stand. That is my very clever invention for resting my arm as I draw. The arm with the new rotator cuff injury. Little tennis issue from Lisa pretending she’s still 15.
Today is New Year’s Eve. Every year at my house we do a ball drop where my husband and my son erect a tall pole in our front yard, and hoist a ball rigged with Christmas lights that flash and twinkle. At the bottom of the pole is the new year’s sign that lights up when the ball descends reaching it at the stroke of midnight and Auld Lang Syne begins to wail over the loud speaker. Every year the entire neighborhood shows up for the event at ten minutes before midnight and leave five minutes after. There is no getting out of it now if we wanted to. It gets bigger every year, and one of these days we expect a news crew to show up.
The first year we did this was in Nashville for the changing of the millennium. We wanted to do something really different to commemorate the special event so that’s where the idea began. We went all out. There were balloons in slings hanging from our big maple trees overhead. We had a PA system for the music, party favors to pass out, hats and champagne and invited everyone we knew with their families. It was a huge party raging with lots of children running about delirious with the need to sleep. Lots of them. At the stroke of midnight it was my job to pull the rip cord and release the balloons on the celebratory crowd. Dylan was on Auld Lang Syne detail.
Then came the final 10 seconds. All eyes beheld the flashing ball as the countdown began, with anticipation of the start of the new millennium. I was ready with my rip cord. Dylan was ready with the music. The crowd was counting louder and louder and when the ball hit the sign , nothing happened. It did not light. I did not pull the balloon cord. Dylan did not start the music, and instead of a big cheer emmanating from the crowd, there was a collective groan. That was when we realized that one of the sleep deprived rug-rats who had been told not to go behind the sign had tripped over the cord and yanked it out of its socket disconnecting us from our moment of glory. We recovered the error fairly quickly, and plugged the sign it, but it was just a tad anti-climactic I’m here to tell ya.
I hope no one was scarred for life by the delayed start of the new millennium. Those who were superstitious, or had built bunkers in their basements for the Y2K doomsday predictions might have had a problem with the symbolism of it all. Hey, I figured they could create their own little leap year compensations if worse came to worse.
Personally…I thought it was hilarious. Hey, maybe I’ll sabotage it again tonight. Just for kicks. You’re all invited!
Happy New Year!!!!