Back at it

It's been a minute. Or in fact, more like 1,051,200 minutes since the previously sacrosanct, multi-decade Clarke/Odell New Year's Eve tradition was waylaid by a virus that swept the globe, sending many to their graves and the rest of us to deeply unsatisfying Zoom calls.  

It's also been 3,153,600 minutes, more or less, since Linda roused herself to chronicle the events of year-ending celebrations that actually did occur - a cautionary tale for anyone who presumes retirement means personal pursuits will get more timely attention. Turns out, when one has all the time in the world, procrastination can take hold. 

But if the past couple of years have taught us anything, it's that there's no such thing as "all the time in the world," and one must get things done while one still can. 

So here we are. Back at it. Both the doing, and the summation of said doing.

This year, we really *did* scale back the appetizers, simplify the menu and modify our definition of midnight, all improvements we had previously discussed but never implemented. A block of cream cheese topped with raspberry chipotle jelly and a charcuterie board (aren't we trendy?!) sufficed for pre-meal treats. Ice cream Drumsticks from the freezer provided a yummy, hassle-free dessert. And because our bodies now say "time for bed" without regard for time zones, New York City's televised ball-drop was good enough to inspire our 11 p.m. toast to usher in what would soon become 2023. 

Mission accomplished. It only took 40 years to turn our intentions into reality.

For New Year's Eve dinner and the following morning's breakfast, we went with greatest hits from the past. Steak Diane. Julia Child's Gratin Jurassien (scalloped potatoes) was as spectacular as ever, even though half the cream spilled into Linda's lap on the drive to the Clarkes' home. Buttered green beans with lemon juice. Spinach Pecan Salad. Egg and sausage casserole. Fresh pineapple, toast, Kahlua and coffee. Frank Sinatra as the musical background. 

Good food, good friends, good times. 

Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve felt like blast from the past too. No Dick Clark, of course - he died a decade ago - but his branding remains, and the performers and street revelers are just as uninhibited now, and as curiously outfitted, as their predecessors were when we first rang in a new year together, 

But of course, time does march on, and upon us as well. Since our last New Year's Eve reporting, the Clarkes welcomed grandbabies Charlotte and Teddy, laid Vonnie's mother to rest and bought a condo at Lake of the Ozarks. Both families relocated from long-time houses with too many stairs to more age-appropriate homes, bid farewell to beloved pups, and contributed to the fortunes of physicians and pharmaceutical companies. 

Conversations that were once about favorite musicians, restaurants, local happenings and kids' school events have evolved, or perhaps more accurately, devolved, into discussions about the merits of Medigap plans and tips for dealing with body part replacements from those who've been there (Vonnie's knees) to those who will experience them in the near future (Tom's hip). 

The kids we have worried about since their birth now worry about us. Not without reason. 

But such is the circle of life. And here we are, still living it, and beginning another new year together. 

We close with a photo from the never-reported-on 2017 event, a highlight of which was a sampling of Dom Perignon, a gift from Becky to her mom and dad. Dinner might have been beef stroganoff. Or not. We don't remember. The champagne was awesome, though. 

And here's a scene from one of the New Year celebrations in Blue Springs years, when Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve actually included Dick Clark, and in which we see both that we weren't always old and why Linda's hair should never again be permed. 

And then, a link to one of the YouTube videos we watched together at Vonnie's behest as 2019 gave way to 2020. Little did we know it would be our last New Year's Eve extravaganza for awhile, but then, as now, it pretty well sums up this long-running celebration of friendship, with all its ups and downs and sorrows and joys over the course of 42 years: 

Perfect. 

May all the minutes in the year ahead be happy for you and those you love.