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Y2K: Every day
by Albert Paschall
We’ve been hearing about Y2K for about 5 years now.
It’s really only a ridiculous conspiracy that claims that at 12:00:01
on 1/1/2000 we’ll all go back to 1900. Right
after Dick Clark drops the ball on Times Square our TV’s will go dark, our
refrigerators will defrost and our telephones will be dead.
It will be the beginning of the 20th century all over
again.
Personally I don’t believe any of it.
I read all about it in the tabloids while I was standing in line at the
supermarket. Y2K is a myth
concocted by Bill Gates in a cyber-space conspiracy to continue to hide the
Alien baby that Hilary Clinton adopted that lives in a refrigerator in a secret
nursery in the White House basement. This
child is protected because it was made in Roswell New Mexico by drafting DNA
from dead Aliens and mixing it with a lock of Elvis’ hair.
Y2K is a virus that the child is spreading through waves from its brain.
Despite my doubts about the Y2K threat my wife has taken a few
precautions. We have a few extra
bottles of water stashed, some candles and extra dog food.
I have ignored it. I
wasn’t in the least bit worried that my computer would crash, I bought the new
one last month for its graphics. I’ve
always wanted to own six dozen flash lights and 300 batteries, so why not now?
Long underwear is back in style and everybody should have at least 42
pairs, that way you don’t have to do wash for 6 weeks.
As for the cases of wine hidden in the basement, well suppose the
neighbors should drop by to celebrate the New Year, you’d want everyone to
have a toast, wouldn’t you?
But there are 64,000 real reasons in Pennsylvania not to worry about Y2K. It’s an insurance policy guaranteed to work that’s 92%
cost-free.
It’s the state’s 64,000 volunteer firefighters and if there’s ever
a term that belongs in 1900 its firefighter.
From chemical explosions to mining disasters, radiological transportation
accidents to search and rescue operations, firefighters are the first on the
scene of any calamity and are almost always the ones to get the job done. In
Pennsylvania they volunteer their time to learn how to manage 75 natural or man
made disasters and in the last minutes of this year they will be standing by. If everything goes to hell in the first seconds of the new
millennium because the silicon chips that apparently control our world call it a
century causing total mayhem, our volunteer firefighters will be the first to
respond.
Its more likely though that too many of them will get
dragged from their warm beds in the cold, early morning to the sad task of
prying broken bodies out of smashed cars because somebody had too much to drink.
But that’s not new too them. They’re
used to wasting their time and talents on our carelessness and excesses.
These dedicated volunteers are the reason there’s no need to worry
about Y2K. They deal with it every
day. Their policy think-tank, The
Pennsylvania Fire and Emergency Services Institute, delivered its 21st
Century Project Report last March. It’s
a comprehensive analysis of the state’s potential emergency demands.
From population shifts to building codes it covers everything including
those 75 infamous disasters and how to train the people and supply the equipment
needed to deal with any of them.
Reading the PFESI report is about as exciting as reading tabloids while
standing in line at the supermarket. So
don’t bother. And don’t bother
with the flashlights, batteries, long underwear or the computer.
Someday the truth will come out. Chances
are that Bill Gates owns the long underwear factories as part of the conspiracy.
But I could be wrong, and it wouldn’t be the first time.
A little insurance wouldn’t hurt.
Pennsylvanian’s volunteer firefighters raise 92% of their funds
themselves. Whether they are
selling Christmas Trees or holding their helmets out on street corners they pay
their own way, too often begging the money to protect us.
When you wake up on the first day of the new millennium with electricity and flowing water having escaped natural or manmade mayhem you’ll know that life will go on. But someday disaster may strike you. Protect yourself. Find out where the nearest volunteer firehouse is and send a check with a prayer that you and your loved ones will never need them.
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Albert
Paschall is senior commentator for the Lincoln Institute, a non-profit
educational foundation in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Ó
Calvin-Graham Enterprises 1999. www.lincolninstitute.org
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"Some days" © Calvin-Graham Enterprises, distributed at no charge to selected newspapers in the the Commonwealth Of Pennsylvania by the Lincoln Institute of Public Opinion Research, Inc., 453 Springlake Road Harrisburg, Pennsylvania 17112. Receipt of distribution is permission to publish as bylined op-ed only. Not available as letter to the editor. The Lincoln Institute is a non-profit, non-partisan educational foundation dedicated to promoting the ideals of free market economics and individual liberty through the conduct of public opinion research. The opinions expressed in "Some Days" do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the institute its officers or directors. |