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We made it to New Year’s Eve! Prepare to be disappointed.
Stephanie Hayes | There’s no easy way to say this, but Jan. 1, 2021, is still going to be bad.
 
This is where we are, folks.
This is where we are, folks. [ STEPHANIE HAYES | Times ]
Published Dec. 23, 2020

Who’s ready to get rid of 2020?

The party store, that’s who! A trip through the Clearwater Party City this week revealed décor designed to send off this festering year like a cockroach into the baseboards. While everyone hurried to finish Christmas shopping and ram each other off U.S. 19, the party store had settled into an elegant frat house vibe.

The primary slogan on hats, signs and balloon displays was “FU 2020,” which is either the Chinese character for “fortune,” or something else. Golden noisemakers read “2020 blows,” which is either a nod to scattering dandelion seeds for a wish, or something else.

According to the glamorous models on the party store packaging, we will spend Dec. 31 surrounded by friends with bare midriffs and very straight teeth, not sit alone in our homes wearing the only sweatpants that fit. We will toast our futures with sparkling wine, not fall asleep at 9:45 p.m. after chewing several Rolaids.

And, it appears we will all be wearing flapper headbands on New Year’s Eve. Why is it always flapper headbands? I don’t know how to tell the party store this, but pretty much everyone died at the end of The Great Gatsby.

There is a bit of magical thinking involved in moving forward. Events keep getting pushed out, like, two or three months. The Gasparilla Distance Classic, the Florida State Fair, family vacations, personal grooming appointments. It’s therapeutic to think that, with just a little more time behind us, we will be back to normal and sharing funnel cakes. Maybe we should postpone New Year’s Eve two months? Discuss.

No, no. We are all eager to move on from 2020. With COVID-19 vaccines starting to circulate, hope springs! But we are going to be in this mending phase for a while and expectations need to be tempered. We must ease back into those nude sushi parties business people had in the ′90s (or was that just in movies?).

Let’s start with this holiday. Never ever say, “It can’t get any worse!” Do not say it! When you say this, you are inviting an ancient hex that will create 16 mutations of the coronavirus. Similarly, do not say, “If we got through this year, we can get through anything!“ You might as well stand in front of a mirror chanting “Bloody Mary.”

Do not make an ambitious list of goals to tackle immediately. Do not book a trip to Mallorca for February. Do not renew plans to follow Elton John on tour. Start small. Consider one of many sexy new year’s resolutions, such as adding a Vitamin D supplement into your diet, or calling the city about the drainage problem on your street.

At the stroke of midnight, there will be no hero on a horse to save us, no alien vessel to beam us to a place where all is sanitized. It is celebration enough to have made it this far. It’s celebration enough to open the door on Jan. 1, 2021, look outside, say, “It’s still there,” and then shut the door.

One decoration at Party City might be appropriate, though. It was a banner with the numbers 202_, the idea being it’s reusable for the next decade. But why not just skip ahead to brighter days? No one would fault you right now for choosing to celebrate 2024. I hear they have hugs there.

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