As I've said before, New Years Eve seems to be the most overhyped semi-holiday of the year. You get all excited about being dressed up, excited about thinking over the significant moments of the year. Then it begins to dawn on you that maybe you didn't grow all that much and you didn't get to those pesky resolutions, or at least, not as well as you wanted. You begin to ponder how totally fubar the state of the world is, how much of the year you spent sleeping (approx. 47 days), and by the time you get to March, it all begins to feel a little futile. I think that's why the whole drinking yourself into oblivion thing is so tempting.
But I love New Years Eve and no, it's not just because it's the one night of the year when Russ often drinks too much and gets excruciatingly funny. I love it because I get to spend it with good friends - who just happen to live a block from Colorado Blvd., the Rose Parade route - who like to talk and eat good food and play silly trivia games with me. Last year, it was a game turning real titles (of movies, books, etc.) into porno titles, an idea inspired by my friend Josh and an avenue for endless fun, especially if you're not averse to words like member. This year, I was going for a more sentimental, remember-the-year-that-was. Here, for example, are a few of my trivia questions:
What date did James Brown die in 2006?
For a bonus point: What year did Beat Dominator come out with their song “James Brown is Dead”?
Who is Kim Jong-Il?
For bonus points, draw him in his favorite outfit of 2006.
What month was Al Queda leader Abu Musab al-Zarkowi killed?
For double bonus points, if you were to induct the word “zarkowi” into the English language, what would your definition be?
The next morning, the Rose Parade started with the roar of the jets flying what sounded like inches above the house. The bright sun was a treat, since we stood to watch in the rain last year and there's no downer like watching dancers with mascara streaming down their cheeks. I love picking a grassy knoll along Madison and Colorado, munching on Christina's cardamom bread, waking up with a strong mug of coffee, and waving to all the marchers like they're old friends. Madison is usually ripe with non-Californians, who come to cheer on Michigan or Texas or Nebraska, and so, it's always entertaining when USC marches by. This year, the float with their cheerleaders and yellleaders (as I was instructed to call male leaders in my youth) stopped right in front of us and you could see on the USC leaders' faces that they were just a little nervous about all that navy blue and gold surrounding them. Russ kicked it up a notch by yelling for Cal Poly Pomona, to which a short blonde woman in a beret yelled Cal Poly SLO back and shook her fist a little. Luckily, it didn't escalate further.
Our whole crowd agreed on one thing, besides the deliciousness of the cardamom bread: The Star Wars floats, Star Wars band, and the Star Wars dancers were the coolest part of the whole parade. Lucas wins again.
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