I was no different from many Americans who had turned this into a New Year’s ritual. New Year’s just didn’t feel like New Year’s without watching the ball drop (and for close to a half-century the presence of Guy Lombardo as well). So, being nineteen years old and on winter break from college, I decided that this year would be the year. The decade was turning, and what better way to greet the 1970s than celebrating it in what many considered the center of the human universe on December 31-January 1. Not wishing to go alone, I recruited my friend Miles to come along. We had known each other since junior high. In fact, in years past, we sometimes found ourselves at the same New Year’s Eve parties. We knew the same people, the ones from the local teen center and the YMCA where we pumped iron in that dingy hole of a gym that hadn’t been updated since Eisenhower was president. We were both muscle heads, albeit smart muscle heads. I was a pre-med major, while Miles studied civil. " Carol admonished. Richard, did in fact put me down, as he eyed his son. "I think she's tougher than she looks." He said quietly, and I did my impression of a stoplight as he shook his son's hand. I must've been as red as my skirt. God damn it. What is going on?!Thankfully, that was the extent of the gauntlet. Casey was standing at the far end of the table and he bid us all to take our seats. He had the air of an MC about him, which made me nervous. I leaned over to John and whispered, "What the fuck is going on?" He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. He tends to go mute in crowds, even friendly ones."If you'll all be seated. Please! Please sit." Casey was saying. "Does everybody have a drink? No?" Two large beers were pushed in front of us. Then everyone raised their glasses and looked at us. I was getting right to the end of my rope, but John had already reached for his stein so I followed along."Thank you all for coming. John, Anna, I know this must be a shock, but we have.
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