JimmyCsays: At the juncture of journalism and daily life in KC

What I didn’t tell you in my New Year’s Eve post yesterday was that my goal on New Year’s Eve is always to find the closest thing to Times Square in Kansas City.

And that’s what I had in mind when I mentioned that after having dinner in Parkville, I wanted to stop by KC Live! and Union Station — the two places where the biggest stroke-of-midnight crowds would be assembled.

Minutes after I published that post, Patty firmly rejected the idea of KC Live!, saying it was going to be too cold. I didn’t argue but thought, OK, there’s still Union Station.

Union Station had been advertising its annual “New Year’s Swingin’ Eve” celebration — $120 per person — in the Grand Plaza, formerly the North Waiting Room.

We had never been to that event, and I’d long wanted to see what it was like. To my surprise, however, Patty started balking at that idea, too, saying, “I don’t want to go there; it’s going to be too loud.”

I countered by saying yes, it would be loud, but it would be a big, boisterous gathering where we undoubtedly would run into people we knew.

“We won’t see anybody we know,” Patty said flatly.

“Oh, yes, we will,” I said, “and I’ll bet you ten dollars we do.”

“I’ll take that bet,” she said.

At that point, I figured that even if I lost the bet, I had prevailed in the “go-don’t go” argument.

With that backdrop, here’s the story of our New Year’s Eve…

**

We arrived at Cafe des Amis a little before 8:30 and were soon joined by longtime friends Cindy and Bill Molini, who live in Lawson.

Cafe des Amis is quite a treasure for Parkville. It’s a 30- to 45-minute drive from Brookside, depending on traffic, but it’s a warm and cozy place, and the food is excellent. It’s owned and run by a French couple named Ingrid and Guillaume Hanriot. Ingrid is in charge of the kitchen, and Guillaume oversees the tables areas and serves customers, along with several other wait-staff members.

As I expected, the restaurant was bustling and busy. Our table was in a room that had five or six tables, and it was quite loud. Even with my hearing aids turned up a notch, I had to cup my ear to hear Cindy and Bill across the table.

The principal offenders in the noise department were two of three people who were sitting at a table 8 to 10 feet from us. At one point, the lady was on the Internet reading something off her phone. She was talking at such a level that she might as well have been announcing at Arrowhead Stadium.

After a few glasses of wine, her husband assumed the announcing chores. Toward the end of our (and their) two-and-a-half hour stay, he was bellowing about Jesus (whom he liked) and President Trump (whom he didn’t like). The third person at the table, an elderly man who didn’t seem to say much, functioned as the loud couple’s audience.

Fortunately, the couple’s commentary was subsumed, for the most part, by the lively conversation of people at the other tables in the room. Only at the end, after most of the other people had left the restaurant, did the Jesus fan’s voice become insufferably loud. That’s when I said, “Let’s get out of here.”

Time had whizzed by, and to my surprise it was almost 11:40 by the time we left the restaurant and started back to town. To my dismay, I realized we weren’t going to make it to Union Station for midnight and that, for the first time, in our 33-year marriage we would be observing the turn of the calendar in an automobile.

Traffic was light, and we moved right along, but still at 11:58 we were on Broadway approaching Pershing Road. Patty, being very resourceful, had been punching buttons on the radio looking for a station that featured something akin to a New Year’s Eve observation. To our delight, 90.9 FM, “The Bridge,”was playing Frank Sinatra’s recording of”New York, New York.” So, we celebrated the first moments of the new year singing along with Frank and exchanging a quick kiss while stopped at the light at Broadway and Pershing.

The front Union Station parking lot was full, but I manufactured a spot, and as we walked into Union Station, men in coats and ties and women in glittering dresses were already starting to trickle out of the Grand Plaza. As I expected, no one was checking people in or collecting money at that point, so we walked right in.

Lights were flashing, hundreds of people were drinking and mingling and scores were dancing to the music of Dave Stephens and the Kansas City Jazz Orchestra. We navigated through the crowd and got close to the stage and dance floor. Even though the sound in that cavernous room is always terrible, it was an enthralling scene and, indeed, it was as close as I was going to get, in Kansas City, to Times Square.

We stayed until the last song, Puttin’ on the Ritz (written by Irving Berlin in 1927), and then started working our way back toward the front of the room to leave.

**

Out of Patty’s view, I pulled a $10 bill out of my wallet as we walked and held it in my left hand…Unless we saw someone we knew within the next minute or two, I was going to owe her $10.

Moments after I had pulled out the bill, she turned to me and said, “Have you seen anybody you know?”

I extended my hand, holding out the folded $10 bill. She looked at it and said, “What’s that?”

Then she remembered. “Oh,” she said and reached out and took the bill.

We hadn’t walked more than another 20 to 25 feet when Patty slowed and approached a waitress who was standing off to one side. Patty handed the waitress the $10 bill and exchanged a few words with her. Nodding and smiling, the woman thanked Patty.

When Patty caught up with me, she said, “Those people look so tired.”

I looked at her, put an arm around her and said, “That’s one of the many things I love about you; you’re always paying it forward.”

**

Yes, it was a great New Year’s Eve. Every day is great when you’re with someone like that.