What's in a New Year? The calendar rolls over. We celebrate the day; most of us don't have to go to work; a lot probably sleep until the afternoon.
The morning is clear here with frost on the rooftops.
In any event there is never enough time. Aspirations soar at the beginning of a four-day weekend only to come crashing down on New Year's Eve. Last night it sounded like a block party on Harrison Street below my studio window. Fireworks, festive banter, alcohol-lubricated hoots. M-80s boomed. The big show at the Space Needle drew cheers. All that was missing was the club music that's normally blasted during the annual summer Gay Pride celebration. Not bad though. I managed to mostly sleep through the ruckus.
This morning I attempted to deposit a check using an ATM at the newly opened Bank of America branch on the corner of Broadway and Thomas. No longer are the ATMs street accessible. You have to enter a lobby that's part of the new behemoth building at 230 Broadway and all doors were locked, no doubt because of the holiday. Still, I suppose the days of being able to stand on the sidewalk and access one's money are before long going to be a thing of the past. This must be part of the trend we're seeing of armed private security guards at bank branches; a post-Occupy, post-meltdown trend.