Happy New Year? Bite me, Ryan Seacrest

I'll apologize now for the nasty tone in my headline. I don't really want Ryan Seacrest to bite me. First of all, it would hurt. Second, it's kind of gross on a whole lot of levels.

But I do take issue with the whole Happy New Year thing, and the way, year after year, it always seems to come down to the same tired old cliches playing out in the same tired old ways:

• First we reflect on the year that was.
• Then we make panicked calls to distant friends and relatives because heaven forbid we don't speak to them before the ball drops.
• Around that time we pick up our mobile devices and share inane Happy New Year wishes on Facebook and other social media because our SM streams weren't already clogged with inanity. 
• Somewhere in between we might make pretty little resolutions for the year to come.
• Then we settle in for an overpriced New Year's "experience" at an otherwise sub-Applebee's-quality restaurant, bar or club.
• Or we settle in to watch the ball drop on TV, interspersed by the aforementioned Ryan Seacrest trying to make it all sound interesting and fresh.
• Within hours of the ball dropping, we summarily break most of our pretty little resolutions.
• By January 2nd or 3rd, we're back to our usual non-reflective, non-empathetic, everyday selves. Nothing has changed.

I'm probably exaggerating a bit. Okay, a lot. But my point is this: Why do we save it all up for one day simply because orbital dynamics and some really old guys in really bad togas deemed it so? Why do we put all our eggs into one big basket and then forget the smaller stuff - you know, being kind, being empathetic, being human - every other day of the year?

I have no answers to these questions. But I do wish to renounce my membership in the Happy New Year Sheep Parade. So in 2016, I'll keep focusing on the small stuff on any given day, no matter what the calendar might say. Because every day is a blessing, and I'd hate to go another 365 of them before I'm once again reminded of that.