The biggest let-down of a holiday

It has to be New Year's Eve. You get all psyched up for this momentous change, and then, all that happens is a ball drops in New York City. Or a drag queen, in Key West.

The music plays, some balloons fall from the sky, and maybe, just maybe, you get kissed. All this build-up: everyone asks which parties you're going to, what you're wearing, spirits are poured liberally, there's a countdown, and then, nothing changes. Everything is as it was, except maybe you're a little drunker, and the calendar numbers are slightly different.

It might be easy to blame Y2K for high expectations on New Year's Eve, but this sense of disappointment haunted me long before people started stocking up with bottles of water and ammo for when the computers would crash.

No, I blame birthdays. Because there's the same sense of "oh, is that it already?"

When you're young, there is so much change on certain birthdays. You're able to see the changes. Each year, you get to stay up a little longer. When you go from 12 to 13, you're able to say "hey! I'm a teenager now!" Then at 15, you get a learner's permit. At 16, it's a driver's license. At 18, you can register to vote, and register for selective service. At 21, you've hit legal drinking age.

After the 21st, there's nothing really special about birthdays. Oh, sure, maybe your mom makes a big deal over you hitting 21. Your friends all tease you about reaching 40. And then someday, the AARP flyers come in the mail, and soon you're qualified for social security. From there, what is there to look forward to except retirement and death?

Nope. I can't get excited over New Year's Eve. 2009 will be much like 2008. Which wasn't all that different from 2007. (Well, except for the divorce.)

But that doesn't mean I won't be out tonight, rushing headlong towards liver disease.