Well. Here we are again at the end of one year and the beginning of another. I guess this calls for some kind of celebration. How about a big party with noisemakers, funny hats, lots of champagne and a big lighted ball that slides down a tower to announce the New Year? NAW…that would be silly! Let's honor tradition and celebrate the New Year the way my Daddy used to.

As you may remember, my Daddy was a mountain man through and through. As he grew up in the mountains he learned the many traditions mountain people have. In fact, traditions are so important to mountain people, they've written a book on the subject. It's called "The Mountain Man's Handbook of Traditions - A compendium of rites, rituals, traditions customs and social conventions practiced and engaged in by mountain people the world over.

I learned about this book one day when I walked in on Daddy just in time to see him replacing one of the floorboards in the living room. He stood up, dusted off his hands and turned around to see me. Startled, he made some excuse about having to check out some things in the hollow, and took off in his truck.

I couldn't wait to rip up the floorboard and see what Daddy had stashed there. Could it be a box of money? A treasure map? A racy magazine he didn't want Mom to see? What I found was his "Handbook of Traditions." On the cover was embossed in gold: "Property of Buck's Daddy (a mountain man through and through). This book to be used by Mountain Men only! Any use of this book by other than duly registered Mountain Men is expressly prohibited! THIS MEANS YOU!"

Of course, I couldn't wait to read the book. Every day while Daddy was away, I'd sneak into the living room and read a few pages. That's how I came to be recognized as such an authority on Mountain Men and their customs. I READ THE BOOK! You can read the book, too. It's available at your public library. Be warned, though, you'll have to sign a sworn statement that you are an official, authorized Mountain Man.

That may not sound like a big deal, but if you sign the statement, sooner or later, the Mountain Men's Association will show up at your house to check you out. They have many ways to separate real Mountain Men from just plain folks, including various rituals performed with rusted out junk cars, discarded appliances, mangy old hound dogs, ill-tempered goats, used chewing tobacco, and cleanings from the hog pen. You'd better be serious about this Mountain Man stuff, 'cause a visit from these people can be an unpleasant experience'.

But I digress. We're here to talk about New Year's celebrations. Perhaps the most important part of a traditional Mountain New Year's party is a sufficient supply of refreshments. For weeks ahead of time women are busy in the kitchen baking, roasting, preserving, and pickling. Meanwhile, the men are out in the hollow practicing their own form of pickling. This consists of ensuring there will be a sufficient supply of Pure Mountain Spring Water - that clear liquid with the kick of a mule that adds life to any party.

This particular batch of Pure Mountain Spring Water is the most important one prepared during the whole year, so extra care and attention are exercised every step of the way. Each day a different man is appointed "Official Taster." His job is to constantly sample the product to ensure it meets quality standards. At the end of each day the other men carry the Official Taster home and pour him into bed where he will remain for as long as three days until he is able to stand on his own and speak coherently. Then he's free to return to the hollow and work at Spring Water production until it's his turn to be taster again. Some men have been known to spend large sums of money bribing their way into being appointed taster more frequently.

As the night of the big celebration approaches, preparation becomes more intense and the barn chosen as the "Party House" becomes a flurry of activity. There are stalls to be cleaned out, repairs to be made, hay bales to be fluffed, animals to be decorated, streamers to be hung, and decorative lights to be strung. The barn echoes with sounds of construction as the fiddle player's raised platform goes up.

Technicians from the MNN (Mountain NewsNetwork) check their cameras, lights and microphones in preparation for their live broadcast of the festivities. Mothers tuck their children into bed and leave last minute instructions with the babysitter. Daddies crawl into the steaming tub for the last (and for some, the only) bath of the year. The air is thick with anticipation…

By 11 o'clock that night, everybody who is ANYBODY is at the party. Tables are piled high with all kinds of cakes, candies, snacks, munchies, and dips. Fiddle music wafts through the air creating a lively festive atmosphere. Decorated horses, cows and goats wander freely about the barn, enjoying tasty snacks slipped to them by party-goers and leaving steaming piles of "presents" for the dancers to avoid.

As midnight approaches, the crowd gathers at the end of the barn where the great cask of Pure Mountain Spring Water stands, ready to slake the thirst of the revelers. The King and Queen of the party are prepared to perform their ritual duty. This year's King is Homer Bofort, a cushion patter at the Claussville Davenport Factory. The Queen is Mandy Sue Murphy, night cashier at the Stop 'N Go Mart. At precisely the stroke of midnight, they release the ceremonial woodpecker that quickly pecks a hole in the side of the cask, creating a fountain of Pure Mountain Spring Water for all to enjoy.

The King and Queen taste the clear liquid and proclaim it to be good. Actually, the Queen falls gagging to the floor grasping her throat and struggling for breath, but the revelers take this as a measure of the strength of this year's brew and line up eagerly to sample it. By one o'clock in the morning nobody is left standing. Inert revelers litter the floor while the decorated animals nudge them gently to see if they're still alive.

By dawn a few brave hardy souls have made their way home to sleep off the night's partying in their own beds. Most remain behind to slumber quietly on the barn floor until their brains begin to function again. Every once in a while some poor soul will slowly rise to a standing position, then begin the long painful process of stumbling home holding his head and moaning softly.

It takes three days for the barn to empty completely and at least a week until everybody can return to some form of a normal life. Upon finding themselves able to function, these brave Mountain People do what their ancestors have always done before them: Begin to plan NEXT year's party!

Happy New Year.

BUCK

If you have any questions or comments or if you just want to do some porch settin' and chew the fat for a little while, you can reach me on the Internet at guystuffbybuck@yahoo.com.