One of the most annoying New Year's Day traditions practiced by my family is the requirement that for good luck and prosperity in the coming the first visitor on January 1st must be male. For about 40-odd years the responsibility of fulfilling this task has fallen to me. As usual, I complain vociferously to first my late maternal grandmother and now to her daughter, my aunt, that this is a dumb idea and that my presence does not portend good luck. But despite all the complaining, I dutifully follow through and carry out this little ritual. Sometimes it is best to go along to get along.
