For Thursday, December 31, 1998 Drummer Column, Gibbs, 721 words

1999 Unplugged

Today is the last day of the year. Tomorrow we step into the threshold of the next millennium.

The year 1999 will not be remembered as a year of its own, I predict, but rather as a precursor to the year 2000, like Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve.

Or looked at another way, 1998 feels like a Saturday, compared to 1999, which will be more like Sunday. The year 2000 will be Monday morning.

On Saturdays we can relax from work and stay up late. On Sundays we can relax from work, but we have to go to bed early. 1999 will be like that.

In 1999 our culture will be all abuzz with concerns over the Y2K bug. The potential joys of 1999 will be cut short because of the time spent preventing double-digit disasters.

As 2000 Eve approaches, we must ask ourselves this question: do we prepare for a potential technical catastrophe, just in case, or do we sit back and do nothing, hoping the geeks will save us from next year's Doomsday?

What if we sat back and did nothing all year, then all hell broke loose next New Year's Eve? What if darkness swept across the country along with the Midnight Hour? What if electricity stopped flowing?

It would be chaos, pandemonium. The streets would be dangerous, deadly. We would all be running about screaming and cursing ourselves, saying, "Blast it! I should have prepared for this!"

What if we prepare ourselves and spend a bunch of money and look like idiots when nothing happens? What if we buy a cabin in the mountains, like some systems analysts have done, and equip it with shotguns and bleach and a generator?

That would cost a small fortune. Is it the sane thing to do?

What if the mere fear of a technical catastrophe creates a disaster? Imagine millions withdrawing their bank accounts, fleeing the cities, arming themselves, hoarding goods.

Perhaps we should trim our defenses and just stockpile water and cash in the garage? How prepared is prepared enough? The experts disagree. Do we wait for them to make a final proclamation?

Waiting is what got us into this mess in the first place. If we'd started programming our computers with 4-digit years a bit sooner we wouldn't have this impending Y2K disaster mucking up an otherwise glorious once-in-a-lifetime experience.

The portents are hitting home. Microsoft just issued a patch to fix some possible Y2K problems in Windows98. Windows98 for Pete's sake! Windows95 might be in bigger trouble. Did you know that if your computer's BIOS is older than 1997 it may have problems as well. My BIOS reads 1997…January. Is that before the fix? I don't know.

Have we hardwired ourselves into a corner? Have we turned over too much control to faulty technology? Have we created a binary monster? Are we too dependent on electricity? Do we die if it dies?

Gosh, I sound like a prophet of doom. I should grow a scraggly beard and wear shabby clothes. Hey, wait a minute. I have a scraggly beard. And I do wear shabby clothes. Ahhh!

I'll have to modify my metaphor. The year 2000 will be more than a typical Monday morning. It will begin with a Moment of Reckoning. It will be like coming to work on the first day of down-sizing.

"Guess what, Bob. We are moving the plant."

"Where? To Mexico?"

"No. To the year 1900. And you haven't been born yet, so you're fired."

It will be a shame if 1999 is labeled The Year of Desperate Measures. We could be having fun making millennium decorations and planning huge parties. Instead, more of us will be out in the foothills digging underground bunkers and buying gun parts across the Internet. More will avoid major cities, figuring any logical whacko who wanted to make a major global statement would plan his gesture to erupt at the stroke of midnight on the turn of the century. Boom.

Here is the Gibbs family-and-friends plan: We will ring in the new century in a rural setting, unplugged. We will bring flashlights, lanterns, candles, firewood, charcoal briquettes, and glow sticks. We will use natural lighting and heat to ring in the new year, and maybe a television. And the fridge. We'll need that. And the stereo, but down low.