An excerpt from a dialogue between mrpeenee and his evil but adorable Cat Saki:
“FUCK YOU, WHAT ARE YOU DOING PUKING AGAIN?’
Do you really need any more details?
The recent run-up to the new decade (perhaps you heard?) reminded me that this fall will mark the 40th anniversary of my moving to New Orleans. How is that possible? People I ran the streets with now have grown grandchildren old enough to begin their own career of misspent youth. But theirs will not be as hilarious as mine, so hah hah, because that rockem, sockem, ridiculously carefree New Orleans is long gone. They are welcome to the pale reflection that exists now; I will remain the crazy old man in the street screaming “It use to be better.”
Recollections also bring back the much less charming time of 20 years ago and Y2K. I know, right?
All that brouhaha was bitterly important to me because the federal agency I worked for, SBA, was the agency in charge of the federal government’s official response to it and since I was the media guy for San Francisco, I was the point man here for SBA’s idiocy. Happy times. Many of us understood that the bigger, more important bureaus had recognized this for the trouble it was and simply ducked, passing the hot potato until it wound up the hands of our moronic administrator, a former weather girl from Miami.
The proposition, that computers would somehow universally fail on January 1, 2000, was problematic because either a) it was correct and the crisis would hit because we had failed to avert it or b) nothing would happen (spoiler alert: pick Door Number 2) and we would look like over reactive numb nuts.
Particular to me was the fact that I was convinced it was all over hyped nonsense, mostly since I am cynical, but also because I figured if it was a real looming disaster, SBA would not be in charge of it.
So cue hysterics from our head office in Washington, demanding we get “aggressive coverage” of the weekly press release they spewed out, bleating about all kinds of bullshit. In our increasingly annoying conference calls, my colleagues in other offices confirmed the media already had all the Y2K bullshit they were interested in, but being in San Francisco meant I had Silicon Valley down the street laughing at us.
New Years rolled around, as it does, and, what do you know, the world did not collapse. The Washington office sent out one last pathetic press release saying, in effect, “Well, ok, nothing happened, but it could have….” I deleted it and sat through the last conference call only unmuting it in order to occasionally say “Yeah, I’m still here.
Guys to have on hand in an emergency.