Word: days
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...aspects of this enigmatic end of the millennium--enticing and sinister, like a ticking package wrapped with a golden ribbon--the size and scope of the world's party refuses to resolve itself before the last minute. There's ample time for a backlash against the backlash as M-day draws closer and people start feeling millennial peer pressure to make impressive plans. (Even Wyatt is now thinking about adding a "big boom" to her family retreat in Texas.) But if more of us than expected end up passing the moment quietly, toasting our family and friends by the fire...
...Certainly, we must count our blessings. But for years we've been told day in and day out that the year 2000 teems with consequence of all sorts: numerical, technological, theological. So when we wake up and smell the skim latte and discover that nothing has really changed other than the start of a new tax year and that meanwhile we're stuck with 500 cans of Bumble Bee chunk white and enough batteries to power that annoying bunny from New York City to Juneau and back, there are bound to be existential consequences...
...resentment born of the suspicion that all along the media were up to their usual tricks, hyping a notional calamity to the max in order to make us buy more copies and tune into TV specials titled The Day the Food Ran Out. Then, too, followers of certain religious sects will no doubt find it puzzling, if not downright disappointing, that the new year didn't begin with a spectacular slapdown between the Antichrist and Godzilla. Of course, preachers can always say the Creator called them on their cell phones at 11:59 p.m. to say Armageddon was being postponed.The...
...also deflation over not having anything left to look forward to other than the Presidents' Day mattress sale. We get only one year with triple zeroes. What are we going to do for an encore? Have ourselves cryogenically frozen for the next...
Nothing seemed more unlikely that morning we met. I hadn't anticipated his sort of relentless good cheer on my first day in treatment. The center struck me as a cross between a mental hospital and a minimum-security prison. Yet Jay acted suspiciously happy to be there. I figured him a flake, one of those self-proclaimed talent agents who pass out business cards to aspiring actresses...