My marvelous schwester blogged about how we rang in the new year by smashing our grand stories from the past. You’ll see that for her, our little “Rage” gave her a good workout. For me, it was an emotional and spiritual cleansing and the beginning of everything…
Eschewing the convention and tradition of proclaiming [and most likely failing to follow through on] New Year’s Resolutions, myself and a close-knit crew decided to smash things to symbolize what we wanted to “unproclaim.” It was one of the most memorable, fun and cathartic NYE yet. We purchased a set of fine-bone china (made in India. huh??) for $3 at the local thrift store and wrote with indelible ink what we wanted to smash, destroy, disassociate, dissolve, remove, forget, let go of.
By the light of the half moon, we found a suitable location at which to engage in our rage and prepared for visceral carnage of fine tableware to once and for all eradicate that which plagued our efforts to attain peace with ourselves and our pasts. What we thought would be an evening of plate moshing turned out to be a comedic exorcise.
We first came up with one method of smashing, and that was to throw our plates across a small canal. Clearly, this would cause them to shatter into a million, fine china pieces on the other side, away from harm (and discovery). One prefaced Her first smash with a “SONOFABITCH!” and the other hurled His across the canal, like Hercules, “sroweeng zee deeskoos.” (click THIS for reference.) Her’s went “thud” on the ground with nary a chip along the scalloped, salad plate edge. His went “clink” and lodged itself in a bush, with His full name written on the plate. He had to cross the canal and retrieve the plate, lest the unscathed, white “deeskoos” identify the offending litterbug.
Another in our party chose not to participate and offered suggestions as to how NOT to get caught vandalizing and littering. I merely observed, reserving my first smash until I saw a satisfactory shattering, when none was to be witnessed up to this point. I realized we had to go the route of the apes in “Space Odyssey 2001: Dawn of Man” and apply a bit more brute force to these bits of “fine” china. I located a huge rock, placed my first plate on the ground, aimed, and dropped, with vigor, the rock onto the plate. Success. She found the nearest large rock and continued with Her plate smashing mission, launching a “SONOFABITCH!” to preface each smash. I wanted to clean up my mess, as suggested by the Lookout Guy, but other He said “that is just not rock n roll!” So I released inhibition and continued my plate smashing session, cackling with glee at hearing Her scream “SONOFABITCH!” and Him by my side, endeavoring to close the book on the painful aspects of our pasts.
After our NYE “Rage in the ______ ” I felt like my arms got a good work out. But I did not feel any different about my past, or what I wanted to change or forget about the undesirable aspects of my personality. The metaphorical irony in all of this is laughable. You simply cannot eradicate your past. And an attempt to do so requires some damn work.