Think New Year’s Day, January 1. Then there’s Chinese New Year, and Rosh Hashanah. There are even more religious and cultural celebrations of the a new year. (Gotta love that Wikipedia!)

For me, though, the new year starts in September. Now that’s a beginning.

New Year’s Eve–some ball dropping in NYC–and I bet that all the Doc’s visitors have at least once just gone to bed at 11 (or 10?) rather than hold out. And what does the “New Year” bring? Bowl games, black-eyed peas for luck, and, for some, hair of the dog. January 1 seems pretty arbitrary. Something to cap the Christmas holidays, but more winter ahead.

Now September, there is a beginning. First, it is the end of summer, and, unless you are dead (and who knows?), the end of something usually means the beginning of something. Like fall. Relief from scorching August days. Earlier sunsets. The first time you put on long pants and shoes after a summer of bare legs. And, of course, back to school. New haircuts, new shoes, new teachers, and the step up into the next grade. The time to get serious, down to business. Put back on the ties and pantyhose.

A new year. Happy New Year! Boy, what a great excuse for mid-term champagne.