The Millenium/One-Year-Until-The-Real-Millenium Address

Our founder, Sir John Reid Hatchporch

The '70s are coming to a...I mean the '90s are coming to a close, ladies and gentlemen.  And you all know what that means.  It means that the '90s are coming to a close, doesn't it?  And what a big, gorgeous decade it was, eh?  The '90s: the decade that gave birth to such memorable phrases as "brb," "afk," "lol," and the unforgettable "rofl."  Har har har!  George Orwell, how we miss thee!

The decade started out with a *burp* and an *eeeouugggh!* as Milli Vanilli gave back their Grammy.  But the fun didn't end there.  Who could forget the lovable Saddam Hussein?  Or that cuddly alien Ross Perot?  Or that big, jolly, purple dinosaur named Barney, which could inspire even the most cheerful toddler to "go postal"?  The human race shined with the L.A. riots and the Kenneth Starr report.  And in case you happened to miss the hits of yesteryear, Puff Daddy was around to resurrect and rewrite them for you.  How thoughtful of him! "Saturday Night Live" became "Saturday Not Funny," and someone stole the M from MTV.  We had cinematic triumphs like "Cabin Boy," "Starship Troopers" and the O.J. trial.  Technological breakthroughs like the information/porn superhighway, virtual reality, DVDs...and pogs.

When the tattered tome of time is shut, and I stop using such poor alliteration, what will go down as our century's greatest achievement?  The automobile...the first man on the moon...the collapse of the Berlin Wall...or the invention of the Chia Pet?  Only your hairdresser knows for sure.

Something each and every one of us should consider, as members of the human race, is that as the clock strikes midnight, every experience you've ever had was in the last century.  Neat.

The 20th century.  Lots of people were born, lots of people died.  How about that?

Now then, the millennium.  Yes, millennium.  "We got stars directing our fate...and we're praying it's not too late...'cause we know we're falling from grace...millllllllennnnnnnnniiiiiiiiiiummmmmmmmm..."

*slaps self*  Errr, sorry.

Millennium: it's a big, weird word.  A tiny "mill" with a big "ennium" on the end.  Wowee zowee!!!

As a new millennium approaches, we may ask ourselves what the future will bring for us...we may ask ourselves if it's really the end of the millennium or if that doesn't really happen until 2001...we may ask ourselves "where is my beautiful house?  where is my beautiful wife???"

We stand on the threshold of a new banana peel...conceived in a test tube and dedicated to the proposition "care to come back to my place?"  I tell you this, ladies and gentlemen.  Now is the time for all good people to come to the aid of my wallet.  Small donations graciously accepted.  Every little bit counts, folks.

Within the next decade/century/millennium lies vast treasures to be unearthed, and within my lungs lie many hair-like structures called cilia.  As a great man once said, "ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your intern."  Oh, sorry, that was someone else.

May this century bring us many more years to come.  May your computers all function after midnight.  May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your sock drawer.

But no matter what happens, you must remember this one thing: I couldn't give a rat's ass about the sunscreen.

"See you on the other side, Ray."
Sir John Reid Hatchporch; full-time dreamer and skilled wearer of silly hats

(C) 1999 Crapple Records, Inc.  No part of this address may be reproduced, distributed, pilfered, read, re-read, worn thin, ignited for pleasure, bought, sold or processed without the expressed written consent of Major League Baseball.  Right-o.  Bye bye...mother.

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