In approximately 24 hours, like it or not, we’re going to be thrust into 2011. [And for the record, I think I’m going to love it. More on that later.]
It’s entirely amusing to think about the things I was dreaming about ten years ago. Back in 2000 I was thoroughly convinced that by this point, we’d be flying around in hovercrafts and dressing in aluminum foil.
…come to think of it, on New Years Eve in 1999, my family had subscribed to every word of all that “the world will implode at midnight” Y2K nonsense-and had bunkered down with enough bottled water, AA batteries and canned kidney beans to…to…
…huh. We really ought to have done a better job of thinking that one through.
I think we even filled up the bathtub with water for just-in-case purposes. I don’t know how you batten down the hatches for an emergency in your family, but in mine, for some unfathomable reason, we fervently believe that we can solve any crisis from an earthquake in California to a riot in Jakarta, by filling up the bathtub.
Given my slight flair for the dramatic, it should come as no surprise that I was mildly crushed when the clock chimed midnight and nothing happened. [Am I alone, here? Break it to me gently!] The new decade was ushered in quietly, sorely lacking the firey explosions and general mayhem that my wide-eyed thirteen year old self had been awaiting with an elated glee that in retrospect, probably should have been resolved with a therapist. I was left dejected, sitting alone with my dashed hopes of mass-hysteria and a veritable mountain of ubiquitous water bottles.
My brother Stephen, on the other hand, completely nonplussed, simply went and drained the tub.
I just sat there and shot him the stink eye. His levelheadedness sometimes makes me want to punch him in the kidney.
I don’t know about you, but I intend to insure we do our part in Dakar to welcome this new decade with a little bit of bedlam. I’ll let you know how it goes.