I’m having trouble saying goodbye to this year in any coherent way; a stifled retch feels most appropriate, like the sound you make when you’ve emptied your stomach but you’re not done throwing up.
(Setting aside national politics and the deaths of lots of famous people, the Hope Street universe lost a noteworthy person in 2016 — my Great-Aunt Eleanor, the last living member of my grandparents’ generation of the family. That in itself would make it a subpar year. There were other things too.)
Maybe what this year needs to close it out is a good dance. It could be something slow and mournful. Or it could be something fast, for those dancing to forget.
At least one of the Hope Street Blumenaus used to end the calendar year that way, back in the day:
December 28, 1962.
Assuming the DJ was spinning the hits of the day, the kids at the church dance on Dec. 28, 1962, would have had pretty slim pickings. (“Pepino the Italian Mouse,” anybody?)
At the year-end 1963 dance, the young Methodists of Springdale might have heard something from a certain Liverpool band that was just sneaking onto New York radio and would shortly turn America on its ear. But in 1962, no such radical change was around the corner, and the bland musical interregnum between Chuck Berry and the Beatles was still in force.
It’s hard to anticipate any radical social or personal changes around the corner in 2017, either.
But, who knows? You never see them coming.
So turn out the lights on 2016, find a partner, and we’ll be back to see if next year is any better.
(Keep your hands where the chaperones can see them.)
Kurt:
I helped start the (probably short-lived) tradition of the “Old Year Dance” at Springdale Methodist 2 or 3 years prior to this calendar entry. Contrary to your assumption, the only DJs back in those days were on the radio. The Old Year Dance had a band – mine. And since I and my musician friends were working on New Year’s Eve, they decided to move the dance to a day earlier.
Springdale Methodist did have a contraption I suspect some member of the congregation rigged up that featured a big, powerful tube amp and a big speaker with a simple 45 rpm player on top. In the absence of a band, kids would have brought their own favorite 45s to spin. This may well have been used during the band breaks in 1962.
Your Glenn Miller reference pre-dates 1962 by around 25 years. What my parents would have been watching on TV would have been Guy Lombardo and his Royal Canadiens playing Auld Lang Syne, the traditional TV New Years’ fare prior to Dick Clark et al.
BTW, I thought from the title of your post and the first couple of paragraphs you were going to bid good-bye to “Hope Street” for the second time. I know your calendar material has pretty well run dry, but luckily your muse hasn’t!
RB
The Glenn Miller is not meant to suggest what kids (or parents) listened to in 1962; it’s more of a personal reference.
When I was a kid, one of the Rochester TV stations used to play “Moonlight Serenade” during its nightly signoff, and ever since then, the song has had a strong turn-out-the-lights, it’s-closing-time overtone to me.
The sort of feeling that fits nicely when you’re ready to see the end of a long, frustrating year.
The best Hope Streets are probably behind me but I ain’t done yet.
Thank you for this particular last dance. I would have saved it for someone very special, back even before 1962.
you’re welcome. It seemed to fit the mood.
My friends from the MYF and I had a great time dancing at the annual Old Years Eve Dance. It became an important part of our teenage social calendar, so much so that my friend Susie and I still ask each other every year at this time, “What are you wearing to the Old Years Eve Dance”? (These memories helped deal with our retching this year)!
P.S. I hope the Hope Street entries will carry on…
yup! I’m still at it.