And Mariah Carey never got the cup of tea she was promised

Most people start their New Year, year after year, making resolutions, looking back over the past year, and planning for the year that just opened. 

But resolutions, like hearts and promises, are made to break. Memories are faulty, and we often forget the best parts of the year that went into the history books more often than many of us ever looked at a history book. And plans? You have to make plans! You know the old expression, failing to plan is planning to fail.  Except that you're not really planning...

What I do each and every 12/31 and 1/1 is, I sit there looking at a television set and wonder why people throng to Times Square in New York to be among tens of millions of people who have nothing better to do than to stand there in way-below freezing weather for 16 hours with nowhere to tinkle.

And 50 tons of trash.  

You can just imagine what-all's in there. 

"Cigarette butts, party hats, favors, you name it," says Paul Visconti, the chief of the New York City Department of Sanitation, and a man who has 30 years experience overseeing cleaning operations. "It’s not easy because you also have the challenges of weather."

So, for my money, the only people who have any business being in Times Square on New Year's Eve are the 246 men and women who start cleaning the place up, and the work literally begins as the ball is dropping.

I mean, why wait?

They have all 50 tons of the confetti, food waste, bags, cups, clothing, lost cell phones, gloves and scarves and such all gone by daybreak on the first.

The army of cleanup people brings with them 30 mechanical brooms, 58 backpack blowers, 44 basket/litter trucks and 58 good old-fashioned hand brooms.

“You will see a night and day difference in eight hours,” Visconti said. “It’s something short of a miracle what we get accomplished.”

It must be a fascinating sight to see, those 246 people showing up as people like Jenny McCarthy leave the Square. I'm so daggone anti-litter, I would probably volunteer to stay and help clean up everyone's detritus, which will never happen because I won't go.

"It’s rewarding to see 50 tons of debris disappear," Visconti says. "It’s not easy but we make it look easy."