Just to get it out-of-the-way, I’m not a fan of the holidays. I’m not any sort of misanthrope or anything but honestly I’m not someone who enjoys hours and hours of planned activities and pageantry and ritual. Small little intimate gatherings planned on the fly and with little to no structure. That’s what I like.
So you can imagine what my reaction would be to family holiday parties and dinners. Not really keen on them. Even less when I have to host and there’s no early escape for me. My family has wonderful people and it’s got nothing to do with them. Rather as an introvert I can only take so much before I feel trapped.
But as bad as that gets, the alternative of having to spend holidays alone is even worse. I’m not talking about the Memorial days or July 4ths or Presidents days. No one really cares what you do or don’t do on those days. The big ones, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. Those are the ones that get to you.
I’ve spent a few of those alone over the years. Sometimes it was bad scheduling. The other people in the family had other plans or were otherwise engaged. Sometimes it was a last-minute snafu and I couldn’t be there. Those things can’t be helped. Of course sometimes it was bad planning on my part.
One New Year’s in particular I decided I should pass the holiday alone on vacation. I went to New Orleans for a week. The week itself was fine. The crescent city loses nothing in Winter and I argue that the cooler weather actually makes the experience better. New Year’s eve however was anything but a good experience.
All day long I got the sense of people planning and getting ready for something special. I know that I came here alone and that I hadn’t planned to be with other people but before it didn’t matter. Now all of a sudden it did seem to matter. The restaurants were booked solid and they would not take single diners for any reason. I don’t remember where I ended up eating. As the evening wore on and I was in my hotel room I suddenly got this sense of claustrophobia and extreme solitude. I needed to be around people.
So I headed over to the French Quarter and wandered round waiting for the stroke of midnight. I ambled into Jackson square where the fortune tellers come out at night and do readings. Just out of curiosity I consulted one and asked her about my future. She was a palmist and went through her routine of ogling and tracing out the creases in my hand. Finally she pronounced that I would die around 45 years of age from a heart attack and I would be alone. Not exactly what I’d been expecting.
I wandered the crowded streets full of semi drunken revelers, tourists, sailors, pick pockets, thugs, and policemen. Sometimes the throng was so densely packed that I could barely get through but in spite of that I felt alone. Midnight came and went. People all around me were doing the midnight kiss or hugging each other and wishing each other a happy new year. I wandered off into the darkness away from the celebrations that would go into the dawn and silently walked back to my hotel pondering the hard-won wisdom that I had just acquired.
I went home the next day and asked my family all about their New Years and listened intently to each and every detail. I don’t say that I look forward to holiday parties and planned activities for holidays but it’s definitely preferable to the alternative.
Recent Comments