Bringing in the New Year | Pickering

So, how did you bring in the New Year? Since I'm writing this on Tuesday, I can't tell you what we did, but I would bet serious money it won't be much different than the past 10 years or so. I've never been much of a party animal, and my wife is usually ready for bed by 10 p.m. at the latest. She doesn't have a cultural history of welcoming in the first of January, and I haven't done much to cultivate one over the last 20-plus years either. We did embark on a New Year's Eve party-cruise on the Bay once with another couple. I think there was a special deal of $150 per couple, and we just figured, "Why not?" A quick drive across the bridge to a Berkeley marina, and on to the boat. There were three levels on the ship. Each floor had its own band, buffet, and bar. Everyone received a glass of champagne to toast in the New Year after the boat anchored, with an unimpeded view of the San Francisco fireworks extravaganza. It really was a lot of fun, and there were still no hangovers for us non-party animals. A New Year's Eve event can cost a fortune, so I think we did very well.

I never really had a chance to come up with any New Year's Eve traditions, as I would usually be working – serving as the entertainment for someone else's party – during my rock musician years from 15-21. We always had a gig on New Year's, usually at some nightclub. We could eat the food, have a drink or two, and bring home a decent pile of cash for our trouble. Not bad. After the band, I tended bar on weekends at a nightclub in Northern Kentucky while I was in school. They always had a big New Year's Eve bash, and the whole family would work there, since my sister-in-law's boyfriend owned the club. Once again, free food, entertainment and a paycheck. Another pretty good gig.

Later on, my December 31st celebrations would involve small dinner parties composed of our neighbors, with everyone's kids in attendance, managed by a sitter while the adults partied. When it was all over, everyone would just walk home, unless it was your year to play host. Not having to take that short stroll home definitely didn't offset the clean-up involved.

During our years in San Francisco, we lived just a couple of blocks from the Ferry Building. All we had to do was pop out the side of our parking garage to be in the thick of the fireworks spectators. After the first couple of years, we just stayed inside and caught a bit of the fireworks from our window, while enjoying the earth-shattering kabooms. We were definitely well on our way to having New Year's Eve become a night just like every other. While we often bought champers for the occasion, it often never left the fridge before turning in. While it may sound boring, after many decades of New Year's Eve celebrations, it eventually becomes just another "been there, done that" occasion.

I do maintain one longstanding New Year's Eve tradition on those midnights I'm still up. And that is sounding my Viking horn throughout the land. The back porch of the Pickle Ranch was a great spot for this – with the long-held blast reverberating throughout our neighboring valley. But I didn't make it last year. Let 2026 be the year "the horn of Helm Hammerhand" sounds for the first time from our new home. Happy New Year everyone!

Tribune Regional CA