When I still lived in Philadelphia, we used to sit around in the living room of our friend Frank's house and sing along to the soundtrack to Grease (we were the show geeks in high school) while gorging ourselves on shrimp cocktail. We'd then switch over to ABC and watch the ball drop. At midnight, Frank's friend Otto led us outside and into an attempt at the Mummers Strut. Don't ask, it's a local tradition I still don't understand but miss terribly. Afterward, the guys would light up cigars and the gals would crank up the music. The guys would finally join us inside and we'd dance until we had to crawl to a space for sleep.
It's been years since I've seen Frank, Otto or any of this crew, but that was a tradition to beat all.