A New Year, Somewhere

Friday, January 6, 2006

Page 15

AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)

A New Year, Somewhere

By J’AMY PACHECO

California. We’re known for many things, our size and population among them. We’ve got it all — sunny coastline, majestic mountains, deserts both low and high. We make good wine, and produce movies that are great, awful and everything in between.

We’re famous for our warmth and wackiness, for our suntans, shiny cars and drive-by shootings.

What we’re apparently NOT well known for is our celebration of the New Year.

I stayed up late Saturday night to welcome Baby New Year. Around 11:30, I gathered my little family, and we turned on the television to await the countdown.

It became apparent almost immediately that we were the only ones in California who were waiting for the celebration. The dark houses on my suburban cul-de-sac were one clue. Another was the fact that the only revelers we could find on television had been recorded three hours earlier on that other coast, and were likely already sleeping off their own parties.

At first, we tried the “big” channels. The network we call Channel 2 wasn’t even broadcasting a New Years show. The other two, Channels 4 and 6, were broadcasting leftovers.

My husband suggested we try the local channels. We did, and found more New York reruns. Every channel we tried was broadcasting leftovers.

Now, I have nothing against New York. I love New York City. But I haven’t been there since December 1988, when it was so cold that my contact lenses froze to my eyeballs.

I went to the World Trade Center on that visit. Of course, it’s not there anymore, and maybe that’s why everybody decided to focus attention on the Big Apple for celebration of a New Year.

But when the clock strikes midnight, I want to hear Randy Newman sing, “I Love LA.” I don’t want to hear Frank Sinatra croon about a city I’m not likely to set foot in for the whole of 2006. I want to celebrate what’s good about THIS time zone.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, I began to feel desperate to see something live. I found two Spanish language stations broadcasting New Year countdowns.

I don’t speak Spanish, so it took about 10 minutes for me to realize one of them was being broadcast from Miami. Since Florida is New York’s southern neighbor (more or less), I knew that broadcast wasn’t live, either.

I don’t get it. We’re an interesting part of the country. Los Angeles is supposed to be the entertainment capital of the world. Nobody could stay up late to do a little countdown for the locals? And what about San Francisco? It’s easily one of the most interesting cities on our half of the country. Surely a live broadcast from San Francisco would have attracted some attention.

As midnight grew near, I wondered if I could at least find something live from the left side of Canada. Nope.

I don’t mean to be a whiner, but there’s something very unsatisfying about watching the first exciting event of a new year unfold in reruns. It’s kind of like that feeling we West Coasters get when the results of a presidential election have been decided, and we haven’t even voted yet.

I was disappointed enough that I gave up on the television broadcasts. My daughter was playing an online game, and announced there would be fireworks in “ToonTown” at midnight. California time, even.

So when the new year came, we found ourselves huddled around our daughter’s computer screen, watching ‘toons run around under — and in some cases, in the middle of — computer generated fireworks while speed chatting New Year phrases like “How about that?”, “That’s kooky,” and “What’s that smell?” It wasn’t a bad way to celebrate.

The next day, I scanned my Internet news page looking for word of some West Coast celebration I may have missed.

I found one article about the New Year. Its headline read, “US Welcomes 2006 From New York to New Orleans.”

Apparently the New Year never made it past the Big Easy. I’m not sure if that means we’re no longer part of the United States, or if we’re still stuck in 2005. But it certainly explains the lack of celebration last Saturday night.

So, wherever you are, raise a glass (or a coffee cup) and join me in celebration of the New Year, California-style. It may be a little late, but it could be worse.

I wonder what year it is in Hawaii…