by William Cooper
During my first year of living in Seattle, I went on a drunken staggerfest of a New Year’s Eve. I was young and single and still had my liver about me. I’ve always been socially anxious about parties, and being alone without many friends in a strange city only exacerbated the problem. Luckily, the bottom of a glass usually had the solution to my inhibitions.
As we watched the fireworks from a hillside apartment in Queen Anne, I was already wobbly. There was a girl I somewhat fancied who was more wobbly than I was, and so I made it a point to wobble next to her. The night became darker and also fuzzier, and those of us left at the party fell asleep in piles of coats and limbs and drool. The girl I liked nestled into the crook of my arm and made motions that there might be some adult wobbling she was interested in.
But she was cross-eyed with drink and could not remember my name. And the guy next to us was giving me motions that I should probably take advance of some of the chesty flesh that was easily at hand and that he might like to watch that.
So I left, down and disappointed in nobody in particular, maybe everyone in particular and went home.
As I walked outside, I immediately entered this luscious world of back streets and hidden alcoves. Fireworks burst in the skies. People honked as they drove past and danced in the streets. I rambled from place to place, blissed out, exploring this secret wolfing-hour landscape – shadows cast by the full moon, racoon galumphing down alleyways, the wind frosting the tips of madronas. When I finally made it home, I crawled into my comforter, onto the mattress in the walk-in closet of my studio apartment, and fell asleep with a soul full of wild – my kind of wild for what was to come.
In this episode, we explore the wilderness of an unseen year by looking back to look forward. We learn what a cough-button is; visit local, hapless news reporters on New Year’s Eve; travel to British Columbia with a bear whisperer; drop four stone on potassium-rich foods, and end up in a musical reminiscence of some obscure singers named Geddy Lee and Michael Stipe. Oh Canada!
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