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By all accounts, 1997 was a dull year. The year that nothing happened. No national election, no Olympics, no celebrity murders, no captivating trials (everyone thought McVeigh did it). Princess Diana's death was the biggest story of the year. And while the international outpouring of grief earned the most attention, it overshadowed the dumb, pedestrian part--she was killed by a drunken driver while not wearing a seat belt. Isn't it annoying when mothers turn out to be right? (Just because all your friends believe that a comet is the mother ship coming to take you home, it doesn't mean....) It seems appropriate that in the year's waning moments, the story that has most captured our attention is that Seinfeld is not returning for another season. Whaaatttt? You'd think the sky was falling. I, for one, am looking forward to having my Thursday nights back. But the end of Jerry, Elaine, Kramer and George may predict a dull 1998 as well. If even they couldn't stick it out until the big bang, the next year looks grim for the rest of us. The whining and complaining about Seinfeld only punctuated the whining and complaining of the rest of the year. One of my favorite stories of the year was the Mir space shuttle situation. Day after day of disaster interrupted by nervous breakdown, ignoring the simple solution: Bring them back! Actually, the thing I'm most terrified of is a space walk, so I've got to give them some credit for that. Closer to home, the bickering over the "health" of Keiko brought the question of misplaced resources to a whole other level. Anyone else see the story about a rescue of 100 (!) whales beached this week in Australia? Science and technology stories dominated the news, but not really the national consciousness, proving again that things people don't understand--like cloning--make for good TV movies, but bad, or little, public policy. That's opposed to things that make for good images--landing on Mars--but have questionable societal value. And the so-called important political stories aren't any better. Paula Jones may have been wronged, but God, she's annoying. Even though I have an end-of-the-year malaise, literally, I do have some hope for 1998. Since I'm sick, I can't possibly complain when New Year's Eve turns out flat. Besides, having a bad New Year's Eve probably means that every day following it will be better. Well, at least that sounds like something George would say. |
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