A New Year
A Simple Dispatch from the Past
January 1st, 2021
I awoke from a dead sleep to the sound of explosions. After a few disorienting moments, I realized where I was, when I was. I was on the couch in my living room. Those explosions were fireworks. Which meant it must be nearly midnight. I sat up, hesitated, then grabbed a cigarette and shuffled outside.
The fireworks continued, though I couldn’t see most of them. I could only hear their arrhythmic, percussive bursts, and the sound of people cheering. I walked down the length of my porch and sat on the steps, looking down into the totally empty street. In the building next door, I could hear a family counting down from ten.
The counting family got to zero and shouted, “Happy New Year!” and then it was done; 2020, the worst year in modern history, was definitively over. In overcrowded hospitals around Los Angeles, people were dying by the hundreds. But there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The sound of far-off cheers amid the smattering of explosions. I began to tear up. It had been a hard year. For everyone. I found myself wishing I knew the lyrics to Auld Lang Syne. I hummed a few bars…
Should auld acquaintance be forgot…
And then, not too far away, a lone trumpeter began to play, his horn bellowing into the night. Likely the same person who, in the early days of lockdown, some seven or eight months ago, would play sweet Americana while my neighbors banged their pots and pans at 8pm sharp every night. Ostensibly to salute first responders. But also, I liked to think, just as a joyous cry into the evening, letting people like me know that, though we were stuck at home without another soul to comfort us, though the streets were eerily quiet, we were not alone. There were people all around us. And that trumpet would play the National Anthem or Amazing Grace, I could no longer remember which, and I would feel a little less alone.
But tonight it was playing Auld Lang Syne. Compassion welled up in my heart, for myself and everyone around me. For the other people alone in their homes, for the families huddled together, hoping for better times. For my parents, who I hadn’t been able to see in over a year. For Auld Lang Syne, my dear. For Auld Lang Syne. The trumpet wailed beautifully, barely audible as it was drowned out by the booming fireworks overhead, and the sound of me openly weeping.
We’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet
For Auld Lang Syne.
Happy new year everybody.