Dave Barry's History of the Millennium (So Far)

by Dave Barry

  John Kerry, looking to improve his image with Red State voters, shoots a duck.

  On the health front, medical researchers announce that if you feed one aspirin per day to laboratory rats, eventually you are going to get bit.

  In sports, popular spunky horse Smarty Jones wins the Kentucky Derby, confounding exit pollsters who had unanimously picked Seabiscuit. Congress vows to call its bookie.

  The big entertainment news in May is the much-anticipated final episode of Friends, in which Joey, Chandler, Ross, Rachel, Monica, and Phoebe suddenly realize that they are, like, fifty-three years old.

  Speaking of final episodes, in…

  JUNE

  …former president Ronald Reagan dies and embarks on a weeklong national tour. Also hitting the road for the last time is Ray Charles.

  Another former president, Bill Clinton, travels around the nation bringing comfort to large crowds of Americans who injured themselves attempting to lift Clinton’s thousand-page memoir, titled Someday I Might Read This Myself.

  The news from Iraq continues to worsen as the interim governing council, in a move that alarms the Bush administration, chooses, by unanimous vote, its new acting president: Al Gore. He immediately demands a recount.

  In a related development, CIA director George Tenet—the man who advised President Bush that the case for proving there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq was a “slam dunk”—resigns to accept a job advising the New York Yankees.

  President Bush meets with the pope and, in impromptu remarks afterward, describes him as “a great American.” John Kerry, campaigning in Michigan, strangles a deer.

  On the economic front, there is good news and bad news. The good news is, the U.S. economy has generated 250,000 new jobs. The bad news is that 80 percent of these openings are for cable TV legal experts needed to speculate endlessly about Scott Peterson.

  Speaking of jobseekers, in…

  JULY

  …John Kerry is formally nominated at the Democratic Convention in Boston and, in his acceptance speech, tells the wildly cheering delegates that, if he is elected president, his highest priority will be “to develop facial expressions.” Also well received at the convention is Kerry’s wife, Teresa Heinz-Ketchup Kerry, who gives a moving account of being an immigrant in America with little more than hopes, dreams, a personal staff, a large fortune, and a Gulfstream jet. Vice presidential nominee John Edwards also makes a well-received speech, after which he is never heard from again.

  In Washington, President Bush, reacting to news of a projected sharp increase in the federal budget deficit, vows to find out if this is a good thing or a bad thing, or what.

  On the terrorism front, the federal commission charged with investigating the Sept. 11 attacks, having spent more than a year questioning hundreds of witnesses and reviewing thousands of pages of classified documents, concludes that the attacks were “very bad” and “better not happen again.” Congress vows to hold hearings.

  Meanwhile, in another blow to the U.S.-led effort in Iraq, Uruguay announces that it intends to pull its troops out of the coalition. Informed that it has no troops in the coalition, Uruguay asks if it can borrow some.

  In Baghdad, former Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein appears in a courtroom to hear the charges against him, which include torture, murder, genocide, and more than 175,000 zoning violations. Hussein declares that he is innocent and offers to take a urine test. The judge rules that further proceedings will be postponed “until the Scott Peterson trial is over.”

  The big movie hit of the summer is Fahrenheit 9/11, a shocking documentary that shows how Bush administration policies were directly responsible for making Michael Moore more than $100 million.

  In sports, Lance Armstrong wins his sixth consecutive Tour de France, overcoming the hardship of having to pedal hundreds of kilometers with hostile French persons clinging to his legs.

  Speaking of sporting triumphs, in…

  AUGUST

  …Greece hosts a highly successful Olympics, with the USA winning all the gold medals, at least the ones shown on TV. Fears of terrorist attacks prove unjustified, most likely because the terrorists, like everybody else, are watching women’s beach volleyball. The only major controversy involves the men’s gymnastics gold medal, which is won by American Paul Hamm, despite exit polls showing it should have gone to a South Korean.

  On the political front, the Republicans gather for their national convention in New York City, which welcomes them with open armpits. But the hot political story is the allegation by a group of Swift Boat veterans that John Kerry exaggerated his Vietnam accomplishments, and that, in fact, his boat was, quote, “not particularly swift.” This story produces a media frenzy of charges and countercharges that soon has the entire nation riveted to reruns of America’s Funniest Home Videos.

  In other political news, New Jersey governor James E. McGreevey resigns after confirming persistent rumors that he has nipples.

  In weather news, an unprecedented series of hurricanes—Arnie, Barb, Chuck, Deb, Ernie, Francine, Gus, and Harlotta—all head directly for Florida, causing millions of Sunshine State residents, by long-standing tradition, to throng to home-supply stores in an effort to purchase the two available pieces of plywood. Damage is extensive, although experts say it would have been much worse if not for a dense protective barrier of TV news people standing on the beaches and excitedly informing the viewing audience that the wind was blowing.

  In other bad news, the Department of Homeland Fear, acting on credible information, raises the National Terror Index Level to “EEEEEEEE,” which is a level so high that only dogs can detect it.

  Speaking of alarming, in…

  SEPTEMBER

  …Florida’s weather woes worsen as the Sunshine State is battered on consecutive days by hurricanes Irving, Jonetta, Karl, Louanne, Myron, Naomi, Orville, Peg, and Quentin. When it is finally all over, many Florida residents are completely hairless, and shards of Disney World are coming down as far away as Montana. The federal government, reacting quickly, sends a third sheet of plywood to Florida and promises that a fourth will be on the way “soon.”

  In politics, the month begins with the Republican Convention and Mass Arrest still going on in New York City. The GOP delegates, confounding exit pollsters, nominate George W. Bush, who promises that, if reelected, he will “continue doing whatever it says here on the TelePrompTer.”

  With more bad news coming from Iraq, and Americans citing terrorism and health care as their major concerns, the news media continue their laser-beam focus on the early 1970s. Dan Rather leads the charge with a report on CBS’s 60 Minutes citing a memo, allegedly written in 1972, suggesting that Bush shirked his National Guard duty. Critics charge that the memo is a fake, pointing out that at one point it specifically mentions the 2003 OutKast hit “Hey Ya!” Rather refuses to back down, arguing that the reference could be to “an early version of the song.”

  Just when the public is about to abandon hope in the presidential election, the candidates get together for an actual debate at the University of Miami Convocation Center, which is the only building left standing in Florida. In summary: Bush states that being president is really, really hard, for him, anyway. Kerry states that he is really, really smart and has, like, 185 specific plans. It is agreed there will be two more debates, although nobody can explain why.

  In aviation news, US Airways files for bankruptcy for a second time only to have a federal judge rule that the airline can’t possibly get any more bankrupt than it already is. Meanwhile, the Transportation Security Administration, acting on credible information, announces that it will be requiring additional airport screening for commercial airline passengers who are, quote, “wearing clothes.”

  On the legal front, a judge drops rape charges against Kobe Bryant on the grounds that “the Scott Peterson trial is hogging all the cable-TV celebrity legal analysts.”

  In medical news, the popular antiarthritis drug Vioxx is pulled from the
market after clinical trials show that it may contain carbohydrates. On a more positive note, former president Bill Clinton experiences chest pains and is rushed to New York–Presbyterian Hospital, where, in a five-hour operation, surgeons successfully remove a glazed doughnut the size of a catcher’s mitt.

  Speaking of the National Pastime, in…

  OCTOBER

  …the Boston Red Sox, ending an eighty-six-year drought, defeat the St. Louis Cardinals to win the World Series, defying exit polls that had overwhelmingly picked the Green Bay Packers. The Red Sox get into the Series thanks to the fact that the New York Yankees—who were leading the American League championships three games to none, and have all-stars at every position, not to mention a payroll larger than the gross national product of Sweden—chose that particular time to execute the most spectacular choke in all of sports history, an unbelievable Gag-o-Rama, a noxious nosedive, a pathetic gut-check failure of such epic dimensions that every thinking human outside of the New York metropolitan area experienced a near-orgasmic level of happiness. But there is no need to rub it in.

  In entertainment news, Howard Stern signs a five-year, $500 million deal to move his show to satellite radio, where a man can still display a nipple.

  On the health front, the big story is a nationwide shortage of flu vaccine, caused by the fact that apparently all the flu vaccine in the world is manufactured by some guy in Wales or someplace with a Bunsen burner. Congress, acting with unusual swiftness, calls on young, healthy Americans to forego getting flu shots this year so that more vaccine will be available for members of Congress.

  President Bush notes that additional vaccine “could be hidden somewhere in Iraq.”

  John Kerry, campaigning in North Carolina, kills a raccoon with a hatchet.

  In aviation news, SpaceShipOne, the first privately funded manned rocket, breaks free from its mother plane, soars sixty-two miles above the Earth, swoops gracefully back to Earth, rolls to a stop on the Mojave Desert, and files for bankruptcy.

  Abroad, Yasser Arafat collapses and is taken to a hospital, where his condition rapidly worsens, and continues to worsen until nobody thinks it can get any worse, but somehow it does. “It’s really bad,” says a hospital spokesperson. “We’ve never seen anybody achieve this degree of worsening without kicking the actual bucket.”

  Osama bin Laden, who has not been seen or heard from in quite a while, releases a video in which he states that he is “willing to listen to offers from satellite radio.”

  In other international news, Afghanistan’s historic first democratic elections go off without a hitch, except for an unexplained 27,500 votes from residents of Palm Beach County.

  Speaking of elections, in…

  NOVEMBER

  …the 2004 U.S. presidential election campaign, which has been going on since the early stages of the Cher Farewell Tour, finally staggers to the finish line. John Kerry easily sweeps to a fifty-three-state landslide victory in the exit polls and has pretty much picked out his new cabinet when word begins to leak out that the actual, physical voters have elected George W. Bush. Democrats struggle to understand how this could have happened, and, after undergoing a harsh and unsparing self-examination, conclude that Red State residents are morons. Some Democrats threaten to move to Canada; Republicans, in a gracious gesture of reconciliation, offer to help them pack.

  The postelection recriminations and name-calling continue for more than a week until finally the public, realizing that there are still important issues that affect the entire nation, returns its attention to the Scott Peterson trial, which finally ends with the jury finding Peterson guilty of being just unbelievably irritating. The verdict means sudden unemployment for thousands of cable news legal analysts, who return to their cave to hang upside down by day and suck cow blood by night until they are called for the next big TV trial.

  Meanwhile, there are big changes in the Bush cabinet, the most notable involving Secretary of State Colin Powell, who announces his resignation after returning from a trip to find all his office furniture replaced by Condoleezza Rice’s. Attorney General John Ashcroft also announces that he will leave the cabinet to resume private life as a frozen haddock.

  Dan Rather also resigns, on orders received via the secret radio in his teeth.

  In other presidential news, thousands attend a festive dedication of the seventy-thousand-square-foot William Jefferson Clinton Presidential Library in Little Rock, Ark., next door to the ninety-thousand-square-foot William Jefferson Clinton Presidential Cafeteria.

  As the nation enters the holiday season, the festive mood is dampened by the intrusion of grim reality, as 137 Americans die in vicious predawn aisle-to-aisle combat over deeply discounted post-Thanksgiving Christmas sale items. Congress vows to remain on recess.

  Abroad, the big news is the presidential election in the Ukraine, where the government, citing exit polls, declares that Viktor Yanukovych has defeated Viktor Yushchenko. Hundreds of thousands of outraged Ukrainians take to the streets, protesting the fact that they cannot remember which Viktor is which. Many threaten to move to Canada.

  Meanwhile, the condition of Yasser Arafat, already worse than anybody believed possible, somehow worsens still more, until it becomes so bad that Arafat no longer responds to a medical procedure known technically as the Hatpin Test, at which point he is declared legally deceased. After a funeral service attended by a large and extremely enthusiastic crowd, he is buried in several locations.

  In sports, a Pacers–Pistons NBA game in Detroit turns into a riot after Pacers star and rocket scientist Ron Artest, hit by a cup thrown by Fan A, retaliates by charging into the stands and attacking Fans B, C, and D. Explaining his actions later on The Today Show, Artest says he thought he “saw weapons of mass destruction.”

  Speaking of sportsmanship, in…

  DECEMBER

  …the pro-baseball world is stunned by the unbelievably shocking and astounding and totally unexpected news that some players may have taken steroids. “Gosh,” exclaims baseball commissioner Bud “Bud” Selig, “this could explain why so many players suddenly develop two hundred additional pounds of pure muscle and, in some cases, a tail.” Seeking to restore fan confidence in the sport, the players’ union and the team owners, in a rare display of cooperation, agree that it will be necessary to raise ticket prices.

  In Washington, the cabinet shuffle continues as John Hargrove resigns as secretary of interstate affairs upon being informed, after four years in Washington, that there is no such cabinet position. “Under the circumstances,” states President Bush, “he did a heckuva job.”

  On the military front, the president, in a move that sparks international outrage, announces that he is sending Ron Artest to Iraq. Meanwhile, the dollar continues to decline abroad, largely because of what U.S. Treasury secretary John Snow describes as “French waiters.”

  In other international news, Iran continues to heatedly deny that it is developing nuclear weapons but is unable to offer a plausible explanation as to why it purchased two hundred pounds of enriched uranium on eBay. The United Nations, reacting to this crisis with unusual swiftness, resolves to do nothing.

  In the Ukraine, weeks of massive street protests finally lead to a ruling by the Ukrainian supreme court that there must be a new election between the two Viktors, only this time “they have to wear name tags.” The protesters attempt to go back indoors only to discover that their shoes are frozen to the streets.

  Meanwhile, Yasser Arafat continues to worsen.

  And he is not alone. As we look back on the events of 2004, we sometimes get the feeling that the whole world is worsening. It would be easy to become depressed about the future, and yet…

  …and yet we are not. As we approach the end of the year, we find ourselves feeling hope, optimism, and a warm glow of happiness. Why? Because we’ve been hitting the eggnog. We recommend you do the same. But whatever you do: Have a Happy New Year.

  2005

  WILMA, RITA, KATRIN
A: NO MATTER HOW YOU STACK IT UP, 2005 BLEW

  It was the Year of the Woman. But not in a good way.

  Oh, I’m not saying that men did nothing stupid or despicable in 2005. Of course they did! That’s why we call them “men.”

  But women are supposed to be better than men. Women are the backbone of civilization: They keep families together, nurture relationships, uphold basic standards of morality, and go to the bathroom without making noise. Women traditionally shun the kinds of pointless, brutal, destructive activities that so often involve men, such as mass murder and fantasy football.

  But not this year. Women got CRAZY this year. Consider some of the more disturbing stories from 2005 and look at the names connected with them: Martha Stewart. Judith Miller. Valerie Plame. Jennifer “Runaway Bride” Wilbanks. Paris Hilton. Greta “All Natalee Holloway All the Time” Van Susteren. Harriet Miers. Katrina. Rita. Wilma. Michael Jackson.

  Of course, not all the alarming stories from 2005 involved women. Some of them involved men, and at least one of those men was named “Scooter.” I’ll be honest: I don’t really know who “Scooter” is or what he allegedly did. He’s involved in one of those Washington, D.C.–style scandals that are very, very important, but way too complicated for regular non-Beltway humans to comprehend. You try to read a Scooter story and next thing you know you’re emerging from a coma weeks later with spiders nesting in your ears. But whatever Scooter allegedly did, it was bad. We know this because pretty much all the news this year was bad. Oh, sure, there were some positive developments. Here is a complete list:

  In some areas, the price of gasoline, much of the time, remained below $5 a gallon.

  Nobody you know caught avian flu. Yet.

  The Yankees once again failed to win the World Series.

  Cher actually ended her farewell tour.

  That was it for the good news. The rest of 2005 was a steady diet of misery, horror, and despair, leavened occasionally by deep anxiety. So, just for fun, let’s take a look back, starting with…