In your twenties, you start out at 9 p.m. on New Years Eve to go to a party that precedes the party your really want to attend, that ends up at another party that somehow ends up having breakfast with a bunch of people you just met.
In your thirties, you and your significant other attend a party that is given by someone who is supposed to benefit one of your careers at a house that looks like someone inherited a lot of money, and the evening ends with you and your domestic partner leaving soon after midnight to go dance at a road house and have the best drink of the evening, two draft beers.
In your forties you have a lively evening at home with the kids and get them to bed just in time for a glass of Champagne and hearing the fireworks a mile or two away.
In your fifties, you spend the night at home watching a movie and having the whole bottle of Champagne to yourselves.
In your sixties, you walk the dog, eat delivered Chinese, watch the Times Square ball drop on TV, have a glass of Champagne, and hit the rack.
In your seventies, you read a book, walk the dog, dance a two-step with you honey to your smart speaker, sip Champagne out of the same glass, and call it a night.
In your eighties, you do whatever you damn well please, and stay up all night or hit the rack at eight, and don't change your calendars until two days after New Years Day.
What are your plans for New Years Eve and New Years Day?
In your thirties, you and your significant other attend a party that is given by someone who is supposed to benefit one of your careers at a house that looks like someone inherited a lot of money, and the evening ends with you and your domestic partner leaving soon after midnight to go dance at a road house and have the best drink of the evening, two draft beers.
In your forties you have a lively evening at home with the kids and get them to bed just in time for a glass of Champagne and hearing the fireworks a mile or two away.
In your fifties, you spend the night at home watching a movie and having the whole bottle of Champagne to yourselves.
In your sixties, you walk the dog, eat delivered Chinese, watch the Times Square ball drop on TV, have a glass of Champagne, and hit the rack.
In your seventies, you read a book, walk the dog, dance a two-step with you honey to your smart speaker, sip Champagne out of the same glass, and call it a night.
In your eighties, you do whatever you damn well please, and stay up all night or hit the rack at eight, and don't change your calendars until two days after New Years Day.
What are your plans for New Years Eve and New Years Day?









