For Thursday, January 1, 1998 Drummer Column, Gibbs, 712 words

With reservation

"Well, Madge, the year 2000 is now just that much closer," said Simon, who was driving. "People are making New Years' reservations already for certain hotels in special towns."

Madge nodded. She reached over and squeezed her husband's thigh. "That's right, Dear. Where will we be then?"

"We could be anywhere in the world," said Simon. When he spoke his voice was loud and generous. "We have two years to plan."

He was passed by a Plymouth and a Dodge, then he passed a Toyota and a big rig. Two guys on motorcycles passed him. They were bundled up warm against the New Year's Day frost. Everybody passed a motor home in the right lane.

"That's right, Dear," said Madge. "How about Reno?"

"Reno!" said Simon. "Come on, Baby, think big. We could be in Rome, Paris, Prague, or on some warm island. Greenwich, England, will, I'm sure, no doubt, have, for that one night, at least, one heck of a prime meridian party. There's the place to be." He put on his right blinker and began to exit the freeway.

Madge looked out her window and watched the world slow down as Simon braked for the Stop sign. "It doesn't have to be Reno," she said. "It could be somewhere else. We could stay home."

"Stay home!" said Simon. "Come on, Baby. Live it up a little. Stay home at the turn of the century? That's a terrible idea." He turned right on Century Lane and gunned the engine a little.

"Do you have a better one?" she challenged. She knew when Simon was in this animated mood that it would be better to let him talk than to try and make him listen. She would wait and play her cards later.

"You bet I do. We could reserve space on the shuttle. They'll be selling something by then. Outer space is the place to be. Think of it, Honey. We'd be out of time. There would be no time like the present." He laughed at his own joke. The car in front of them had a Darwin fish.

"That would be fun," said Madge. "We could never afford it, but it would be fun. So, where else?"

"Oh, jeez, how about along the Continental Divide? Those states still allow fireworks. We can sit on a mountain top and shoot off our own rockets at midnight."

"Um-hmm," said Madge. "That would be exciting." At the same time, she was fumbling in her coat pocket with her right hand and wondering, "Hmmm, is that a dime or a penny?" She ran her fingernail along the ridges of the dime, and then paid further attention to Simon.

"Or Kansas City," said Madge, fueling Simon's desire to find a pivotal point.

"Yes, Kansas City," said Simon, punching the steering wheel. "Right on the bridge. Good idea, Madge. Now you're talking."

As he turned left on 99^th Street, which was one-way, he gave Madge a long look. He did not see Kansas City in her eyes. "Hey, what gives, Baby? Are you playing me along? What are you really thinking?"

This was the transition Madge had baited. "Well," she said, and let a moment of silence pass; it was just long enough for Simon to forget what he was worked up about. "I don't think it's so important where we spend New Years 2000. What is important is who we spend it with. Do we want to be away from all our friends and family on that historical moment? Or do we want to take our friends and family with us?"

Simon couldn't help but agree with her. People are more important than places. She had the floor.

"I think Reno is a good place," said Madge, "because everybody knows how to get there, it's not too far away, and the city is open all night long. We need to contact friends and family and get some agreement. As long as we're with loved ones, I don't care where we celebrate. We can stay home."

Simon slowed down after 20 blocks, turned left, then left again on 98^th Street, which was one-way the other way. He pulled along the curb in front of Madge's mother's house, number 19.

"Either way," said Simon. "We should have reservations."