Not knowing what’s coming next is the New Year’s secret ingredient. We can’t imagine, so we party—usually the biggest and loudest of the year. We cover our anxiety with a lover’s kiss at the stroke of midnight, blow paper fizzy things at each other, and drink champagne. We wish each other luck and leap into the New Year like base jumpers and skydivers, not knowing for sure who packed the chute. As the televised thousands cheer in Times Square and the ball of crystal lights blazes overhead, we look anxiously for someone to hold onto, someone we trust, someone who loves us, we close our eyes and pray . . . for a gentle landing.
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