“We gonna throw us a good one this year,” Katie stated emphatically.
“What does that mean?” asked Rosalie, her sister, who lived with her.
“It means I’m bringing in the New Year right!” Katie went on.
“We having a party?” Rosalie inquired.
“Dern right. If those oyster-shucker Kramers down the road can do it, so can I!” Katie grinned.
“Uh oh,” murmured Rosalie under her breath. Katie had a long running competition with the Kramers, who lived a few doors down, and was always thinking of ways to one-up them. When they planted corn and peas in their yard, she planted corn, peas, squash, okra, and tomatoes. When they’d get a new truck, she’d get a newer one.
Fortunately,the Kramers were completely oblivious to the antics of Katie most of the time.
For the last couple of years, the Kramers had had a wild party on New Year’s Eve and had kept Katie, Rosalie, and their seven dogs up until dawn. Fireworks and live music rattled her windows and fueled her ire. This time she was gonna show them. She had invested in a karaoke machine and some huge speakers to go with it. Their cousins from Sopchoppy loved to get liquored up and sing, so they were the first she invited. And when the fireworks stand was set up out by the highway, Katie just about bought them out of everything they had. “You gonna leave some for somebody else?” asked Rosalie as she helped load up the fireworks.
“Nope!” Katie announced with malice in her bright green eyes.
Sure enough, a few days before New Year’s Eve, some boys from across town started binging amplifiers and guitars into the Kramer’s front room. Katie watched them and smirked. “Yu’all better get you some bigger speakers, boys,” she mumbled to herself.
“Great goodness - you’re serious!” exclaimed Rosalie in alarm.
“I’m ready to shake some shingles loose!” Katie laughed in delight.
“Now there’s some real competition.” Rosalie pointed out when the Kramers drove up with five kegs of beer in the back of their truck.
“Our cousins will make them look like teetotalers when they get here,” Katie replied.
The next day, Rosalie and Katie went to the liquor store and got two cases of Everclear. “What in the world are you planning on doing with that horrible stuff?” asked Rosalie.
“My special punch!” Katie answered slyly.
“Sounds like a headache to me,” Rosalie muttered.
“Once I mix some Hawaiian punch and some Seven Up with it, it’ll go down easy. And once our cousins get a few glasses in them, there won’t be no competition to it. They’ll be able to hear us clear across town. Those Kramers will be put to shame.” Katie smiled wickedly.
New Year’s Eve rolled around on a sunny, crisp day, with just a little breeze blowing in off the bay. Katie was up early fixing all kinds of food for her guests. She had her table covered with ham, potato salad, cole slaw, fried chicken, shrimp, cheese grits, and four kinds of desserts.
And right there on the sideboard was her great big punch bowl, all filled up and ready to go. Her karaoke machine was set up by the front windows so the Kramers could hear the music real good. Rosalie just shook her head and sighed, knowing Katie was in her full glory now. “Let’s try out that punch,” Katie suggested.
“But it’s three-thirty in the afternoon!” Rosalie protested.
“Just a sip to make sure I mixed it right,” Katie went on.
So the two ladies proceeded to try out the mixture. It was so tasty, they had another ‘little sip’. And by the time the cousins and other guests began to arrive, Katie and Rosalie were well on their way. In a little while, music began to drift up from the Kramer’s house. Katie just grinned and turned on her karaoke machine. The more they drank, the louder they got. Then, at around eleven thirty, Katie decided it was time to start the fireworks. Those Kramers down the street just stopped what they were doing and wandered outside to look. The Sopchoppy cousins were now superstars with a microphone and Rosalie was dancing on the picnic table on the front lawn.
Then, the cousins started fighting over who had the microphone next. By the time it was over, the cord was ripped off and the karaoke machine was missing two knobs. One speaker was already blown and the other wasn’t sounding too good. Katie cussed them for all she was worth and Rosalie ran to get the hose. “It works on dogs,” she explained to the other guests. Then, one by one, those Kramers eased on down the street to watch this incredible spectacle going on at that ‘stuffy old lady’s’ house. And by that time, Katie didn’t care who came or went as long as the punch held out. Pretty soon Katie and the Kramers were best buddies and the boys had moved their amplifiers and guitars down to her house. Between that, the fighting, and the fireworks, every rooster in town was crowing and every hunting dog for miles around was howling. And, inevitably, about two o’clock in the morning, a deputy sheriff drove up to scold them about the noise.
“What’s going on?” he asked, even though it was fairly obvious what was going on.
“Happy New Year!” shouted Rosalie from the picnic table.
“Isn’t she the president of the P.T.A.?” asked someone.
“Yes, and our Sunday School teacher!” hollered one of the younger Kramers.
“Well. I’ll suwannee!” whistled the deputy. “Just promise me you’ll turn it down,” he continued before he left. So Katie had to turn down the volume and give up on the fireworks display and try to coax Rosalie down from the picnic table.
Thankfully, the punch had finally run out and everyone was getting sleepy. Katie sat down in her recliner and immediately began to snore. Rosalie came in with an armload of dirty glasses from the front porch, still singing Sweet Home Alabama. She spotted Katie asleep in the chair and went over to wake her and get her into bed. “Well, Katie, you did it!” she said with admiration, “And by the way, what did you come up with for your New Year’s resolution this year?”
At that, Katie opened her eyes, looked around at all the mess from the night’s festivities, groaned a little and replied “Quit trying to out-do those derned Kramers!”
