Listening to: Lost Dogs disc 2- Pearl Jam
AsideBloggage has been interrupted of late due to moving house and switching phone and internet connections. Normal service will now resume.
The ghost of New Years pastThis New Years day I have mooched around and helped my wife assemble some flat pack kitchen cabinetry in our new house. This time 13 years ago I was in
A+E.
Rather than eulogise last night or 2006 itself (although I may do that later), I will indulge in reminiscence of New Years past.
Note: Accurate recall may be affected by the passage of time. Those readers who participated in events described below are free to correct any inaccuracies. Some names have been politely omitted.
Unlike the cool bleak day we have today (although it is steadily brightening), Saturday 1st January 1994 was overcast and warm. As confirmed
here, the last day of 1993 was a Friday. Folk gathered at Dan’s place on Pharazyn Street in the early afternoon to indulge in the time honoured teenage pastime of mooching around. My strong hands won me a few bouts of ‘mercy’, while Anthony (
this Anthony in fact) expressed his distaste for U2 by jumping up and down on my U2 cap which was a souvenir from the concert three weeks previously.
The party broke up as plans were made to reconvene that night to welcome the new year. The venue for the revelry was never in doubt.
At this point, we need to thank Kevin’s parents. For going on holiday over the Christmas/New Year period. For taking Kevin’s little sister with them. And for leaving Kevin in charge of the house.
Alone.
The first party was on the evening of Boxing Day.
Precedent thus set, every night in the ensuing week people were up there.
By the time New Years eve rolled around a pattern was well set.
I hopped off the train at Heretaunga in the early evening sunshine, a six pack of DB Bitter in my bag (along with some water and a change of clothes, likely some music cassettes as well). It was on.
People were already there when I arrived, driveway cricket being played along with loud music. Inside a drinking game was ensuing. I arrived just in time to see a slight girl misinterpret the meaning of ‘drink’, and down a whole bottle of beer rather than just a mouthful, quickly followed by a dash to the bathroom.
Events proceeded normally until about seven, when I fell off the trampoline. There was a trampoline in the backyard, and it was enthusiastically utilised by not quite grown ups. An incident occurred when I tried to dismount the trampoline by jumping to the ground from the mat (a technique I had perfected many years previously on my own trampoline) rather than stopping jumping and stepping off. Leaping forward to my launch point, I landed rather too close to the edge of the mat, where there is no bounce. As momentum carried me forward instead of going up I went out and started falling. As my feet were still on the mat I could not get my legs forward and underneath to facilitate a safe touchdown. For a moment I resembled a flailing bio-mechanical see-saw. This state of affairs couldn’t last forever, and in fact didn’t. The lawn rose up to meet me. Luckily, my left hand and face broke my fall.
After spitting out dirt and grass, there was a round of applause and laughter from the watchers on the deck. As I was rushed inside by others for some first aid the two spectators gave me 9/10 for the dismount. My top lip was grazed on the outside, and completely cut open on the inside. As I was almost upside down when I landed my hand and fingers had been bent up and back towards my forearm, and where now hurting in a previously unknown way. Some fairly inept probing and examination determined that no bones were broken, and I was released back to the party, with the suggestion that maybe I don’t have anymore to drink.
I had only had three beers (which prevented me from using any excuse other than incompetence for my downfall), and wasn’t even tipsy. However my current state of injury prevented me from drinking from bottle, can or glass with any degree of comfort. Luckily, my water bottle had a large sturdy straw.
Problem solved. Now I can’t really recommend drinking beer though a straw (it gets kinda frothy) but in time of necessity it will get the job done.
I met D3vo at the train station an hour or so later, and he promptly wondered aloud if I was in shock on seeing my state. I assured him I wasn’t (like I would have known) and we got back to the party.
The night really got going about nine as more people flooded in. Big epic youthful fun was had. At some point I laid down along the seats on one side of the breakfast bar as I was hurting more than a little. Not long after an argument erupted on the other side of the bar between two cohorts about who had taken the last of their beer from the fridge. I mentally resolved to give them my last beer if they would just shut up.
A little later another friend approached and queried me about whether the relationship I had with a mutual female friend (who happened to be his ex) was just friendly or a pursuit. Sensing jealousy, I told him it was friendly (in fact it was a pursuit), not knowing that said female had sent him to me with this question, and I had just given the wrong answer (I found this out much much later). Dang (it worked out in the end. we would have been disastrous for each other, and remain friends to this day). Still we wound up platonically sharing a blanket on the lounge floor at the end of the night.
By the time midnight approached everyone was hammered, except maybe for 2trees and Morgue if they were there (I think they were), who were sensible sober people at the time, and tended to wind up doing a lot of much appreciated looking after of less sensible folk.
The New Year was welcomed in by cheers hugs and for one tears (a girl whose name I forget had recently lost her father I think, and the celebration was a trigger for her emotions. ‘Bliss’ got put on the stereo, cranked up and sung along to. The party was at its height.
By two or three the casualties were starting to mount. One guy passed out on the deck. Quick thinkers rearranged him so his head hung over the edge, lest he choke on his on spew. By four passage through the lounge without standing on someone became impossible. Split Enz’ greatest hits went on to the stereo about now, and stayed on for hours. One sensible person spent the rest of the morning sleeping on a trampoline.
D3vo wandered into the lounge at about half past five, drink in hand still, and loudly exhorted everyone to come outside and watch the sunrise with him. Not surprisingly, several of the floor dwellers loudly exhorted him to bugger off. A little later some of the outside folk performed a dawn chorus, which consisted of three people walking around the outside of the house whistling badly and yelling ‘TWEET TWEET’ at regular intervals.
At about seven my platonic clinch was interrupted by someone stealing our blanket. Outraged, I followed the thief down to one of the bedrooms where another accomplice was trembling in a bed, considerably the worse for wear after too many bourbon and cokes. He was now being ably assisted by a couple of girls, which he was unfortunately completely unable to appreciate fully. Having ascertained that A: he was in capable hands and in no imminent danger, B: I wasn’t getting my blanket back anytime soon, and C: I wasn’t exactly a picture of health myself, I laughed heartily at his predicament, which elicited a single raised finger in response.
I got a lift home squashed up against the glass in the back of a Toyota hatchback. My hand had swelled considerably by this time. I don’t recall being hungover, although it is possible.
Getting home went something like this:
“Happy New Year, can you take me to accident and emergency sometime today?”
Examination of my injuries revealed a possibly fractured finger to go with a definitely sprained hand, along with a comment that I was lucky not to have a broken wrist or arm. My lip was also showing signs of infection. Due to being suddenly one-handed I got some time off my part time job, but couldn’t drive or ride, or drink due to the antibiotics. I asked for the x-ray as a souvenir but the doctor wouldn’t let me keep it.
Everyone who was at that party has a story to tell about what has become known simply as ‘Kev’s New Years’. For most of the attendees it marked the end of their last year at school. There have been other, greater parties, but this one remains special.
Happy New Year folk
A good time was had by all.
Thanks to all who brought gifts, many of which I missed noticing until today, so apologies if I didn't acknowledge at the time.
