Throw out the Dish Towel

Tonight is New Year’s Eve, when we celebrate out with the old. Good riddance, I say. The coming New Year has all the promise which we could possibly desire – we can lose weight, save money, and improve our relationships. When was the last time we had that golden opportunity?

I remember. It was about a year ago when I viewed the first sunrise of 2013. Funny how each year gets old, just like we do. How can we ensure that twelve months from now 2014 will not join that awful 2013 in the dustbin of our mind?

First, practice laughing at yourself.

I met my first wife JoAnne Wolf (her name, in juxtaposition with mine, seemed pretty funny to us and our friends at the time) in high school. She walked into Room 357 seeking to join the speech club. I knew a cute girl when I saw one. I took her under my wing, both figuratively and literally. On our first date we saw the movie “Giant” at the Egyptian Chinese Theater in Hollywood. Fortunately it was a very long movie because it took me more than two hours to work my left hand over her back to finally touch her left shoulder. No titters, please. Yes, her left shoulder, nothing more. I was sixteen. A very shy sixteen.

Time passed. I think we had progressed all the way to a chaste kiss or two by the evening I invited JoAnne home for dinner with my family. It went well. Except for the dish towel.

In my home I had never heard of paper napkins because there weren’t any. My father, mother, brother and I simply sat at the dinner table passing around a dish towel. Wipe your mouth, wipe your hands, and hand it over to the next dirty hands.

When I drove JoAnne home I asked her how she liked dinner.

“Yes? What?”

“The dish towel.”

“Yes? What about the dish towel?”

“Well, everyone seemed to use it as a napkin. There were no napkins.”

I was on the debate team. I was very verbal. I didn’t know what to say. JoAnne explained that her family used paper napkins – one for each person. They say that every family is crazy in different ways. The problem is that you think your family is normal. So certain kinds of crazy are normal.

The communal dish towel didn’t turn out to be a deal breaker. We did marry each other four years later, after I learned how to use my own paper napkin. According to JoAnne, however, I never did get around to holding my fork properly.

I laugh at all of that now. It was traumatic at the time. Good riddance, 1956. Good riddance to all of those years in between.

But not so fast. There were some good moments tucked into each of those years. Maybe it’s better to retain those good memories, and just say, “Out with the disappointments. I’m doing just fine.”

So my second thought for the New Year is to enjoy each day on its own terms. Tomorrow, always, begins a new year.

And laugh as much as you can. Today. Everyday.

Happy New Day.

Alan