Y2K

The Dawning of the Year 2000, though we may not admit now today, was a pretty big deal for everybody in America. Some eggheads crunched some numbers and then freaked out when they realized all our computers' interior calendars couldn't handle "00's." Today, this is pretty ludicrous. But at the time leading up to "the Final Countdown" (cue synthesizers), America pretty much lost it's shit. People built bunkers, liquidated their assets, fled the country, and other crazy acts of desperation we may never ever hear about. So we're probably not going to tell our kids exactly how we handled, or didn't handle that.

Lucky for me, I was a kid at the time, nestled deep in the verdant wood at the base of Pleasant Mountain, better known for the popular ski resort on it, Shawnee Peak. My mother was never one to believe the television, so she scoffed at this panic. Planes falling out the sky? Missile silos going off worldwide? Calendar companies going out of business? FLYING CARS?! She was to have none of it.

Except about a week before the big day. For dramatic effect, use whatever tools you may have, p2p sharing networks, torrents, etc. and download Europe's "Final Countdown." Have it ready on iTunes for my signal. What? You don't have iTunes? What the hell is your problem? Get with the program, surrender to Apple and get ready for the Singularity already, geeze.

So one week before the New Millenium, my mother decided to stock up on provisions, "just in case" some serious shit went down. She came home holding in both arms... Ready for it... (hit "Play" now!)

30 rolls of toilet paper.

Once all electronic systems across the globe crashed, all credit dropped to zero, planes lost, anarchy set loose, four Horsemen in the sky, riots, looting, and chaos... my family would be able to maintain with this one vital necessity. Thanks, Mom.

I spent New Years with my father in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. He also didn't buy any of this nationwide fear crap and just wanted to have a nice New Years weekend. We walked down to the park to watch fireworks go off over the lake. It didn't occur to me at the time, but if Y2K really busted, the fireworks would still have gone off and we'd have been none the wiser. But the countdown started (don't hit "play" again, I'm sorry guys, I didn't know what I was thinking there. I guess I shoudn't apologize, Europe should.)

Right before people hit "Ten...Nine..." my father pulled my brother and I close and muttered really quickly that if anything should happen we meet up at the tall statue not far away. I couldn't see the small crowd we were in really breaking out into an all-for-nothing, every-man-for-himself, the-streets-are-blood riot. But I guess a man should always have a plan.

Instead they all cheered, and we walked home laughing heartily at the stupid scientists who made us all worry so much. Then a drunk man walking past shouted at my brother and I "Peace, Pot and Micro-Dot!" shortly after which his equally inebriated friend corrected him "Peace, Pot and Smoke a Lot!"

My father wasn't pleased.