Y2K overload: No antidote for millennial fever

 

7-22-98

 

 

I've got a case of Y2K overload. Y2K, Y2K, Y2K.

 

I'm not quoting from Bill Gates' vanity tag. I'm not talking about the robot in "Star Wars," and I don't mean the computer design flaw that is going to make my Wizard pocket organizer explode in my purse on New Year's Eve, 1999.

 

Taking with it all my hairdresser appointments for the next -- you guessed it -- millennium.

 

No, I'm talking about the hype over the approaching turn of the century. We're a year and a half out, and already the best minds in marketing are transforming this epic moment into a predictable, anti-climactic, over-orchestrated non-event.

 

Sort of like the half-time at the Super Bowl. Or Al Gore's acceptance speech at the next Democratic Convention. Not exactly your above-the-fold news bulletin. More like a good time to go grab a beer out of the fridge.

 

The Millennium is now a trademarked term. It's going to be the party of the century, bigger than Woodstock, bigger than, um, Lollapalooza. It even has an official sponsor. You guessed again -- Miller Lite.

 

But this sort of groundswell doesn't happen overnight. Behind every super-commercialized, over-exposed mass media phenomenon is groundwork and careful planning. Not to mention redundancy and constant repetition.

 

Level 1 of Y2K overload appeared with a rash of news stories that began, "With the new millennium fast approaching..." Then just fill in the blanks.

 

It might be a story about home design or furniture (i.e., decks will be out, the color gray will be in). It might be about issues, from public transit to politics (i.e., that light rail system will finally be built -- and we mean it this time -- and America will finally see a woman in the White House -- and we mean it this time.)

 

Or it might be about generational trends (i.e., baby boomers are a bunch of aging, self-centered brats who are hogging all the stock market profits, and Gen Xers are sensitive, forward-looking global villagers who are about to be in charge so we all better start kissing up to them.)

 

Level 2 of Y2K overload takes up the serious, practical questions of the calendar change. For instance, are the terms B.C. and A.D. so outdated that they should now be replaced? Should we call it "the Year 2000" or simply "2000?" And does the 21st century begin on Jan. 1, 2000 or Jan. 1, 2001?

 

Level 3, the final, apocalyptic end stage of Y2K overload, will be marked by the proliferation of lists and contests. The best 100 movies of the century. The best books, from the novel "Ulysses" at No. 1 to "The Death of Bob Crane" at No. 99. The funniest home videos.

 

And now, according to an announcement by Playboy magazine, a national search for "Playmates for the Millennium," a city-by-city photo and interview search using "a mobile studio" along with an online site and chat room at the Playboy Cyber Club.

 

The moral of the story being that even with the new millennium fast approaching, some things never change.

 

And as if to further erode our sense of self-esteem and civic pride here in the Triad, the 47-city itinerary for the Playboy 2000 Playmate Search Bus is going to pass right by Greensboro, High Point and Winston-Salem on its way between stops in Raleigh and Charlotte.

 

Of course, this is just the latest in a series of missed opportunities -- from the defeat of pro baseball to losing out as host city for the Tough Man competition -- but it makes you wonder where we as a region are headed.

 

This week, for instance, Greensboro planners released a report that showed the city population topping 205,000 for the first time, and when combined with Guilford County, the total is 388,580.

 

That's no small potatoes, but the collection of dry statistics on "occupied housing units" and "miles of sanitary sewer" hardly do the place justice. What we need is a new formula to determine demographic progress, and really sell our strengths in the Gate City, the Furniture City and the Twin Cities.

 

I'll be glad to entertain alternative weights and measures, but this formula for calculating relative quality of life always works for me:

 

Take the number of Thai restaurants in a city, add in the number of jukeboxes and really dependable dry cleaners, then multiply by the number of university departments awarding PhDs. Divide this by how many buildings have elevators, then subtract the number of downtown parking meters that actually work.

 

By my calculations, we score a 10.

 

Lorraine Ahearn's column appears Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays. She can be reached at 373-7334 or P.O. Box 20848, Greensboro, N.C. 27420-0848.