I had these miillieniim champage glasses. They’ve been lost in one of my several moves since the YEAR 2000. Remember tthe YEAR 2000? Better yet, do you remember being young and looking forward to it?
The year 2000 was going to be the year of the flying car, the cure for cancer, the death of racism, gourmet cod liver oil and hypoallergenic ragweed. The power of those three zeros was going to transform our belligerent nations into peace-loving communal farms. We were going to be the Jetsons, finally.
Instead, we got internet porn, the Bush administration, genocide in Africa, and environmental meltdown. What is it exactly about round numbers that made us think we’d suddenly sprout daisies from our armpits?
Despite all that, there are a few miracles to be grateful for. I think this is the best time in history to be alive. I can put a letter in a box outside an office park and magically it will appear in a person’s hands several thousand miles away in less than 24 hours. I can video chat with my nieces half a continent away and if I get the urge, step on a plane and see them a couple of hours later.
Sure, we may not have created the perfect planet yet. But who cares as long as I can forget about it once in a while with a game of Peggle on my iPhone?
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I really like all of this - but particularly love the second and third paragraphs. The listing works so well - and how can you not love "sprout daisies from our armpits'? A terrific meditation on an object and a year.
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