Aging Boomer

It’s New Year’s Eve!

Let’s get shitfaced!

So it’s evidently New Year’s Eve in California in this photo. Boomers they definitely are not. But they are really cute and this photo beats the photo of liquor bottles I had. Much easier on the eyes and much nicer for the imagination. The mere thought of even drinking liquor makes me want to puke, anyway. I’m a craft beer kinda guy myself.

My New Year’s Eve celebration will be the same as all my most recent past celebrations … spent sleeping. From the recliner to the bed, I’ll be done by ten. Simply put, I no longer have the desire. I don’t even care if it’s New Years. I do care that I have made it through another year. I reckon that’s cause for a celebration.

I quit celebrating when finally, after all these years, I realized I was celebrating the same identical thing every year, a really massive headache that made me wish I were dead, the result of a mixture of beer and liquor, little to no food, and loud music while unsuccessfully chasing women all night.

In fact, the three women above I had chased before, for hours, and woke exhausted. Whoever thought chasing beautiful women in your dreams would be so exhausting? Even just short-term dreams were exhausting, probably because I was too drunk for dreams long enough to allow me to catch one of them.

How’s that line go? ME: “You must be exhausted!” HER: “Why?” ME: “You’ve been running through my mind all night!” HER: F**k off!

Now, instead of chasing headaches and hoping to die, I’m chasing bed and hoping to make it through another year.

Ahhh … the good old days you’re thinking, right? Wrong. I never liked getting drunk, and I hated hangovers (but I do love a Bloody Mary for breakfast).

When I was younger, everything was planned out, people would be met, the parties would begin, and all hell would break loose.

Now? Which football games to watch, what to eat for dinner, and what beer I wished to consume are to be determined. What movie we might watch was agreed upon after dinner, and pot accompanied with munchies were set on a table beside us.

“Let the fun begin!” I thought as I finished dinner and washing the dishes so I could relax in my recliner. This is the time we boomers wait for every year, sitting in front of the TV to watch a movie (and maybe a drunk Anderson Cooper if we make it to midnight), sip a beverage of our choice, and if you’re an old hippy like me, smoke a bowl.

So … From this older hippy biker boomer to everyone out there who reads this, “Happy New Year!”