New Year’s Eve is upon us, and in the Peach State we’re facing a bit of a pickle. The Peach Drop, a tradition as steadfast as sweet tea on a hot summer day, is taking yet another a break this year.
Now, I know what you’re thinking – despite the fact that we take a break from it every time you turn around, a New Year’s in Atlanta without a Peach Drop feels like a biscuit without gravy. But we’re a resourceful bunch, and there’s no reason we can’t come up with some alternatives that are just as entertaining.
Let’s start with the idea of dropping your own peach. I mean, why not? Most of us have peaches and a ladder or a rooftop. Just because the city of Atlanta can’t afford a peach drop doesn’t mean I can’t go to the top of my roof and drop my own damn peach at midnight. If we all do it, that could be a new tradition that’s much more solid and easier to carry out than whatever the city of Atlanta is trying to do or not do.
Peanuts are another option. It’s a simple gesture, but in a state that treats peanuts like gold, it’s got a certain charm to it. Just imagine, as the clock strikes twelve, a shower of peanuts cascading down your driveway. It’s whimsical, a bit quirky, and if you’ve got any elephants in the neighborhood, you’re set for the party of the year.
How about dropping a football? Lord knows the Atlanta Falcons have a tradition of dropping the ball every year, so what could be more symbolic? Dirty Birds aside, football — especially college football is king around here anyway and I bet more of our neighbors have a football lying around than a peach. Maybe a football drop is more what we’re about than a peach drop anyway.
A biscuit drop is also on the table. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy – no need for a giant, float-sized biscuit. Just a good, homemade one, the kind that reminds you of Sunday mornings at grandma’s house. Dropping it at midnight is our way of saying, “Here’s to another year of simple pleasures and good comfort food.”
And finally, let’s not forget the Waffle House tribute. This one’s for the night owls, the early birds, and everyone who’s ever found themselves under the fluorescent glow of a Waffle House sign in the wee hours. We could drop some hashbrowns or a waffle. Or better yet — everybody go to your local Waffle House at midnight on New Year’s every year. You’ll get fed like a king and the sense of community is unbeatable.
Note: This is an opinion article as designated by the the category placement on this website. It is not news coverage. If this disclaimer is funny to you, it isn’t aimed at you — but some of your friends and neighbors honestly have trouble telling the difference.
