I love New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day.
New Year’s Eve
Spending the afternoon partying with great friends, drinking fine Champagne, watching the sun dip into the Pacific, black tie and masks, delicious food, wicked deserts, dancing well past the balloon-drop, breakfast buffet and a blasted head-ache. That’s enough.
New Year’s Day
A little “hair of the dog,” more food and laughs, a long boat cruise around Newport Harbor accompanied by great friends and Almond Champagne, some football and most importantly—relaxing with my honey in a huge hot tub while watching the sun set over the Pacific and staying in the hot tub until my skin looks like Irish Linen.
I always make one main New Year’s resolution. It’s been the same for 40 years.
“Don’t ever lie to myself.” That’s why I never make more than one resolution. Don’t like lying.
It’s hard to believe, but I’ve finished the bucket list years ago. Everything past today is bonus stuff. I’ve jumped out of airplanes, hiked the Virgin River through Zion National Park, played most of the great California and Nevada golf courses and married a princess. Can’t be too many things left. At least nothing I can think of.