Sometimes we go too far.

I've been watching all of these yearly wrap-up shows, columns, star-studded TV specials, and I'm realizing that I'm not getting any new information. It is, rather, encapsulated info from the last 12 months. And it's everything I already knew, although I was kind of surprised that Prince Charles was #10 on A & E's top 10 personalities. See, the Prince turned 50 this year. And that's about it. Last year, of course, his ex-wife died. Guess that was her early 50th birthday present to him.

See, now I'm getting callous about it all. Which is going to far, as well. I resolve not to make fun of dead people as much in the new year.

Rather than warming up the New Year with Dick Clark or Jennifer Love Hewitt, our New Year's Eve party started with a viewing of Day of the Dead (the third in the Night of the Living Dead trilogy). Nothing like rotting dead zombies eating the flesh of the living to kick off the new year. I'll tell you one thing about those dead people--they are quite tenacious.

Live people, however, have been vexing me as of lately. The last two weeks have been like getting thrown through a recycler. Either I'm paying too much attention to the news or everyone else isn't paying attention at all. I don't think either of these things are true, just that there is nothing going on right now--because we shouldn't be doing anything right now. It is time to calm down, reflect and get ready for another fifty something weeks of mind-numbing boredom at jobs, a couple of nice dates, and that really long line in front of the movie theater on Memorial Day Weekend.

I was zipping through a local psychic's predictions for the new year. There was a side story about how psychics don't have to go to school--they just have to have the vision. Apparently having vision means paying attention to pop culture and news. The psychic's big predictions? Internet stocks will continue to do well and Kenny Thomas (star basketball senior at the University of New Mexico) will be a star in the new year. I guess I better go sign up to be a psychic, since I figured these things out a couple years ago.

And I really hate to harp on arts writers, but in this week's Sunday paper, we were treated with the top 25 jazz CDs of 1998. 25? I don't even like to see top 25 list of pop CDs, let alone new age jazz. Listen to two of them and call me in the morning, buddy.

I guess I'm going through all of this random crap (oh yeah, Shania Twain says she plans to write more songs in the new year--the horror, the horror) because I don't want to talk about what we've been talking about for an entire year. And I won't say her name--not for another week or so. But just in case you don't remember, her name rhymes with Hanukkah.

So I have to be quick and step around all the black holes of regular column writing. I cannot degenerate into a "throw him out or shut him up" debate. There must be something else out there.

Actually, there is. And it's relatively benign, so that's a good way to start the new year.

Here's my advice for rich people this year: Stop trying to fly around the world in a balloon. Please! I'm tired of these million dollar ventures failing because of "the damn weather." Well, buddy. The weather is all we've got, so quit knocking it. If we didn't have weather, you couldn't breathe.

These attempts to circumnavigate around the world in a balloon have been a thorn in my side for a few years. It's not that I want to do it, or have some aspiration to keep one world record from being broken. I just don't see the point.

We aren't developing useful technology through this. The latest try uses the theory of "If we fly high enough, we won't have to deal with the weather." No one, other than rich idiots, wants to take half a month to slowly circle the Earth with minimal contact to the people below. And besides, considering how much the trip costs, it would be much more economical to charter the Concorde for the entire family.

Apparently this "fly above everything" theory was so well thought out, they just figured out a few days ago (after a couple of aborted launches) that only two people could go up instead of the scheduled three. Shoulda figured that one out a few million dollars ago, guys. The last few days have been spent in a wrestling pen to see which big fat rich white guys will get to go up in the air to possible glory and which one has to sit at home and bitch. It's not really that important guys, none of you are Magellan or anything.

So stop. Everyone. Stop re-evaluating, considering the implications and wagging the fingers. If everyone would just stop for a few days, put the credit card down and enjoy some of the new stuff you bought for a while, everything will be fine. Everything. Will. Be. Fine.

Just chill out.

Matt Worley is listening to his new Busta Rhymes CD, so stay away.