Well, I decided to join in the fun and go to a New Year's Eve party with my brother.  His wife is from Mexico, so we went to her side of the family.  Relatives and siblings total a small city.  The music was loud, and the food plenty.

We had eaten at a restaurant beforehand because we already had reservations.  But that did not seem to matter.  When we said we had already eaten, they ignored you, and proceeded to tell you the menu anyway.  When you repeated the line that you had already eaten, they served you anyway.  So after awhile, you just gave up and let them serve you, but you didn't touch the food.

But of course the highlight was when I started to get sick.  I kept fighting it off to no avail.  I looked at the clock ten minutes to midnight, the clock kept ticking down.  Soon it was midnight.  I could barely stand and throngs of people came to wish me happy new year.  With each new hug and kiss, I lost a little more balance.  Mexicans do not have little parties - they have big parties.  Santiago, my brother's brother-in-law must have hugged me for five minutes, but that was not the nail in the coffin.  It was a teenage boy whose name I do not know who came over to hug me shaking me like one of his comrades and I was down for the count.

My wife and brother had to carry me to the car, because I had a violent attack.  Of course, one of the party goers stated the obvious, "He had a little too much."  I thought to myself, "yes, but it is not what you think."

Today January 1st, I hope I recuperate, but these attacks are the worst.