Showing posts with label New Year. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Year. Show all posts

Monday, December 31, 2018

What? No scenes of wild December 31, 1918 New Years Celebrations. And none for 1968 either. And New Year's Eve 2018-2019.

 Yup, it's December 31 all right.

Nope, couldn't find any.

And I was surprised.

Cameras were obviously in fairly common circulation by then, although frankly the defeated Germans were the masters of snap shots as they already had a lot of personally owned cameras, whereas that would have been unusual for soldiers from other countries. Still, press photographers were common already, as were military photographers and photographers from organizations, such as  the Red Cross.  

I'm sure somebody took photos, but I didn't find anything for this New Years Eve.

I'm sure celebrations were held too, but I didn't find any record of them.  Indeed, outside of one of the Casper newspapers, even the papers didn't really note it.  The Saturday Evening Post did run a Leyendecker illustration for the New Year on its issue from the last week of December that was New Year's themed, but oddly enough I couldn't find a copy of the cover either.

Anyhow, I'm sure they occurred, and I'm sure relief over the end of the war featured in a lot of those celebrations in the U.S. and the Allied nations.  

Of course in a lot of the U.S. that celebration would have been dry, or if not dry, it would have featured the anticipated last of the suds.  Prohibition was coming in strong and it had the force of public sentiment behind it.  Indeed, in the same Casper paper I noted the first of the counter waive on that movement appeared with a notation that Tennessee was already becoming the center of bootlegging, and openly so.  Anyhow, in a lot of homes the celebrations may already have been dry, in contrast to the way New Years has become, and for many establishments in many states it would have to have been.  

It wouldn't have had to have been in Wyoming, but the press was pretty steady in its drumbeat to bring Prohibition on, so the seeming tide of history seemed pretty clear.

But I'm sure a lot of people gathered and celebrated at homes, or in bars and restaurants that evening.  Lots of Americans, over one million, were still overseas, and they likely celebrated in barracks rooms, with those on occupation duty in Germany probably restricted to post, I'll bet.

Of course, some took note of the changing of year from posts in Russia, where I'll bet that change, which would probably not have been observed by locals at all, most still acclimated to the Old Calendar, was probably a little somber.  Troops stationed near British troops, as some were, I suspect celebrated a bit more.  Those in the Navy no doubt celebrated however that's done in the Navy, which I'm not familiar with but as the Navy is long on tradition, not doubt something occurred.

Of course, if you were a German, except perhaps, ironically, if you were in the Occupied Zone, this was a pretty bad New Years, and not just because your army had been defeated in a four year long war that killed huge numbers of your countrymen. The country was in revolution and falling apart, at war with itself and facing a rebellion in Posen.  It was bad.  Your trip to Mass, if you were in southern Germany or western Germany, was probably pretty somber.

Which it also would have been in you were anywhere in what became Poland or any of the Baltic States, all of which were aflame.  And while this was New Years in Russia, probably few observed it both because the peasantry, which most Russians were, were still on the Old Calendar for observances but also because a massive civil war was raging in the country.

And so ended 1918.  But it's reached continued on. Even until now.

I didn't bother to look to hard for anything from 1968, for which I've been running some dates.  I'm not going to do a  continual1969 retrospective.  1968 was run specifically as it was such a pivitol year in history but I'm finding myself no more informed on that than I was before I started doing that, and my inquiries here and there as to why it turned out to be remain unanswered.  It was, with turmoil in the United States, France, Germany and elsewhere.  Something was going on, but what?  I was around for the 1968 to 1969 New Year but don't recall it, I think, and if I do its from a child's prospective.  Had I been older in 1968, I think I would have been glad that year was over but dreading 1969.

Which is sort of how I feel about this New Years.

It's not like 2018 has been a super bad year for me by any means whatover. Quite the contrary by most measures.  But it has been stressful on a personal level and it featured near its end the terminus on something that I had long hoped would have worked out which did not and the fixation of something to the contrary thats has a real element of bitterness about it.  I'll continue to deal with that in early 2019 until I become fully used to it (the most likely thing), accept it (ditto), or become just very bitterly disgruntled about it.   

And politically the past three years or so  have been about all I can take on the nation's politics, which just seem to get wackier and wacker, and which have spilled over a bit to the local.  There's really serious things to be done that haven't been done.  Maybe 2019 will surprise me and people will start to get to work on them, but right now a person predicting that would have to be doing it based on sheer unsupported optimism.

Oh well.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!

Chorus.-For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.

And there's a hand, my trusty fere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Je Ne Regrette Rien et Je Me Souviens: Resolutions and Regrets

This time of year, I'll frequently hear "I don't do New Year's Resolutions".  That's fine, and that's your business, but I do.

These two attitudes might best be summed up by the two French phrases, which sounds so much more poetic in French than in English, from two different sources.

The first phrase if from Édith Piaf's classic, and defiant, song by that title, which freely translates as "I don't regret anything".  It starts out:
Non... rien de rien
Non je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien... qu'on m'a fait
Ni le mal, tout ça m'est bien égale..
That translates as:
No, nothing at all,
No, I regret nothing
Not the good things. . . they did to me
Nor the bad. . .may it's all the same to me!
I can see why this defiant song was sung by defiant French Legionairres as they went into captivity following their failued uprising in Algiers.

In contrast, there's the defiant motto of Quebec.  "Je me souviens", or "I remember".

To remember, and to remember accurately, is to have regrets, at least some minor regrets. And to have regrets requires us to attempt to adjust to avoid creating new regrets if we can. As a learning intelligent being, we must face our regrets and act where we can. And those are resolutions.

Of course, some regrets are unaddressable.  Things we regret from eons ago, or regrets about situations which are permanent. Those kind of regrets, we're told, can be disabling.  There's no point in crying over spilled milk, we're told as children, and there certainly isn't any point in crying over milk that's spilled and then spoiled.  But, as a person with a long memory, I'm sometimes conscious of those old regrets.

But I don't view that as a bad thing.  We are a species which weighs and measures things, including mistakes, and mistakes that stick with us do so for a reason.  We've no doubt always been that way, as in "I regret whacking that bison on the head. . . I shall not do so again."

And I do make resolutions.  I'm a work in progress for sure, and I know that.  As we all have a backdoor view of ourselves, which nobody else does, I"m sure that most people acknowledge that.  Indeed, a person who thinks that they're near perfection is a pain, and laboring under an illusion. Few do that, however.

Which doesn't mean the content should not be. Some do better than others at their lives and some also are blessed with fortune, opportunity, or a personal makeup that allows for them to be contented.  Indeed, I suspect all are.

Which is why regrets well chosen, and resolutions well made, are useful.  And January 1 is as good of time to make those as any other, whether they be large, as some people's are, or small, as most of our resolutions really are.

So, Happy New Year!

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Thursday, January 1, 1914. The Last Peaceful New Years of the 1910s.

It was the first day in a fateful year. One that would ultimately result in a war that would change the world forever.

Prohibition had not yet come to the U.S., so many people were probably slumbering off the effects of ringing in the New Year the night prior.  Catholics were headed to Mass for a Holy Day of Obligation. Businesses were closed in the Christian world for the day.  

It would be the last New Year many of them would spend in peace for many years.


Not all were in peace right then.  Pancho Villa's forces, under the command of Gen. Torbio Ortega Ramierez, attacked Federal troops occupying Ojinaga, a town on the U.S. border.  It forced the Federal troops into cover, but artillery kept the Villista's from storming the town.

Ojinaga was founded around 1200 by Pueblo Indians.

Northern Nigeria and Southern Nigeria were amalgamated by the British.

The St. Petersburg–Tampa Airboat Line started services between St. Petersburg and Tampa, Florida.  By doing so, they became the first airline to provide regularly scheduled flights.

The Naval Wing of the Royal Flying Corps was given the responsibility for the operation of British military airships.