Big Freakin' Y2K Love-in

Okay. It’s about 1:50 A.M. Saturday, Jan. 1st.I’m tanked.

I’m not getting laid, and I’m not getting any more of those really yummy deep tongue kisses. Also, for some reason, my POS PC decided it was ready to relive the years of Miami Vice and Benson.

Despite that, I fully believe that we’ll continue Monday as if nothing happened. I also believe that more Y2K smooching lies ahead for myself (as I was not puttin’ the tongue to L.I. #2 this fine evening).

So Happy New Year, guys, and I’ll see ya Monday.


He weathered a firestorm of agony and did not break.
And while Yori raged against his unbending
courage, we took Kyuden Hiruma back.
His loss is great, but so is the gift his suffering brought.
-Yakamo’s Funeral

Happy New Year, Flyp. I hope my love life improves this new century/millenium. It was pretty bleak last century.

Happy New one!My son stayed up til Midnight for the first time.He loved it!Then I crashed.

My politics-junkie friends and I kind of peeved everyone else at the Tahoe ski chalet by insisting on watching CNN for twelve straight hours (and drinking, of course, quite heavily).

We cheered when Tokyo didn’t crash, and did vodka shots when Moscow rolled over. When Kiev rolled, we waited the estimated 21 minutes for an ICBM to reach LA, then popped the cork on some California bubbly. Greenwich Mean Time rolled over and the planes stayed in the sky, so we drank beer and laughed at the Queen enthusiastically singing Auld Lang Syne while Tony Blair tried to reconcile his arm-swinging rhythm between a quite drunk Robin Blair and a fragile Queen.

Sometime around 8 PM PST, my best friend from college confirmed his reputation for charm and timing when he re-entered the condo from the porch along with his now-sniffling diamond-ring-wearing girlfriend. So we had another bottle of bubbly; the first and probably only time I have tasted Dom Perignon.

New York rolled over and we watched the East Coast party. Chicago rolled, and we teased the Texans because their parties stunk. Our turn finally came, and there was dancing and kissing and general high-fiving.

We stayed up, too; one of our number had spent some time in Nome, so we toasted again when Alaska’s 1/2 hour time zone rolled over. I think I saw Honolulu celebrate before I stumbled home.

Thank heaven for CNN and all of the computer geeks and the poor simpleton survivalists. Goodnight and Amen !


Some folks like sex, money, and power. For me, there’s always sweet, sweet irony.

Oh, and this couldn’t get more pointless or mundane:

Hey CNN ! Your correspondents’ wardrobes were absolutely awful. Christiana somethingorother reports from London in a poofy chartreuse turtleneck and a shapeless fur? Bernard Shaw chooses a red suit? The reporter next to him in Atlanta chooses a coral dress? NEVER WEAR CORAL, PEACH, OR TEAL ON TV ! (Even and especially if you’re Don Johnson).

At least the guy in Times Square went with a leather jacket.

Next big event, it’s strictly Cronkite-wear. Grey suits, solid ties, grim countenance. Get it right.


Some folks like sex, money, and power. For me, there’s always sweet, sweet irony.