New Year's Eve inspires not just weirdly soppy Scottish laments about old forgotten acquaintances but also a lot of turgid writing. Un-fun English essayist and fancy lad Charles Lamb once wrote, "No one ever regarded the First of January with indifference. It is that from which all date their time, and count upon what is left. It is the nativity of our common Adam." Even in the 18th century, nobody knew what the fucking fuck that last sentence meant. Do you even doubt that he was the kind of person who pronounced all the syllables in the word veg-e-ta-ble? Still, in the festive spirit of auld lang syne, come to the New Year's Party at Grand Saloon (927 East 85th Street, 816-333-1750), starting at 8 p.m., to celebrate the "nativity of our common Adam" — or at least to swill the free champagne toast at midnight. The bar provides party favors, and DJ Carrie spins tunes all night. Suggested 2008 resolutions include "Use fewer swears" and "Quit sticking it to dead English essayists." There is absolutely no cover charge for the festivities.
Mon., Dec. 31, 8 p.m., 2007
