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Friday,
Total words written during December -- 20,444. I am content. 
Lots of people are wrapping up the year in their last journal entry for 1999. I don't think I'm going to do that, mainly because I'm having too much fun watching what's going on around the globe as midnight hits. 12:00 noon, European Standard Time - as a result of artificially bumping the International Date line in order to include it, midnight arrives on Millennium Island, an uninhabited atoll somewhere out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Imported Polynesian islanders perform a dance of congratulations as they welcome in the first day of Millennium Year, and a small boy carries a lit torch out to the Pacific "bringing a message of hope and a new day to the rest of the world." Actually, he looked more like, "This is heavy, I'm getting sparks in my hair, and I want my blankie." 12:15 pm -- due to the vagaries of time zones, midnight then hits the small island of Tonga. The somewhat miffed but devout Tongans announce that Millennium Year has now come to the first inhabited island on the planet (so there, nyah), and the King leads them in a recital of "The Hallelujah Chorus." No fireworks, but hey, who needs 'em when you've got Handel? 1:00 pm -- midnight in Auckland, New Zealand, and the city erupts in a massive fireworks display choreographed to music specially written for the event. Rain didn't stop these people partying like it used to be 1999 (besides which, it is bloody impossible to top the Kiwis for a good time). 3:00 pm -- Sydney, Australia hits the midnight hour, and plays a decidedly unusual medly of the century's greatest hits to its fireworks display. It was nice, but I must say that the Auckland display was better. No serious sign of the Millenium Bug yet. 4:00 pm -- Tokyo and Seoul joins the celebrations with more gorgeous fireworks celebrations and pictures of smiling kids kept way up past their bedtime. I remember calculating how old I would be in the year 2000 and marveling that 33 was so incredibly old. Imagine me laughing hollowly. I now know better. 5:00 pm - along with partiers in Beijing, Shanghai and Hong Kong (do I even need to go into the magnificence of these firework displays? I think not), Russians in Vladivostok knock back their Millennial vodka and wonder just what the hell Boris Yeltsin meant when he said, "I'm sorry" in his shock resignation speech. Prime Mimister Putin is now acting president and holds the nuclear briefcase -- hopefully he doesn't hold any grudges against Chechnya. And things are still holding in Southeast Asia as midnight marches across the land -- Lyndon may actually get out of the TBS bunker on time. 6:00 pm -- I realize that we're going to be standing out in subzero temperatures watching a fireworks display tonight, and go to take an hour's nap. Already, the Swedes have started lighting off fireworks in the distance -- I can hear the pops through my window. In a weird sort of way, it's soothing. Meanwhile, Bangkok and Jakarta celebrate New Year's. 7:00 pm -- Tina kicks my goat-smelling ass out of bed. Thank God what I'm wearing tonight doesn't have to be ironed. In the meantime, big-ass swathes of Central Russia hit midnight. No missiles are accidentially launched. This is a relief. 7:30 pm -- Just to be different, much of India is on a half-hour offset from the dateline. They're celebrating the release of the Indian Airlines hostages in Afghanistan as well as New Year's. 7:45 pm -- Eastern Pakistan, never to be lumped in with India, hits midnight. Western Pakistan will hit midnight at 8:00 pm EST. 7:50 pm -- Lyndon calls. "We pay huge amounts of money for the privilege of having it, so why don't you ever turn your bloody mobile phone on?" he comments. Oops -- must've been on-line. In any case, the spectre of Y2K has successfully passed Southeast Asia, and he's been officially released. If he can find a taxi, he's on his way home. 8:00 pm -- Western Pakistan, right on time. More of Central Russia goes midnight (no wonder Napoleon and Hitler had their asses kicked -- that country is BIG). Sky News keeps broadcasting recaps of various celebrations, and announces that 2000 has been chosen by the Welsh Tourism Board as "Why Not Come Back to Wales" year. Ad jingles immediately start tumbling through my mind -- "Wales -- because the sheep miss you, Big Stud." "We've got vowels now!" "Coal mining? What coal mining?" And now, my sweeties and darlings, I have to go start getting ready for our own night. More observations as they happen. |
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