There are many things I look forward to in the new year. For one, the Kansas City Chiefs might make it to the Super Bowl (don't laugh, they're 9-5). And once the new year turns over, it's only a few months till spring, and then a few months after that it'll get really really nice outside. And even if everything shuts down on January 1st, the weather will still be there for me. I'm pretty sure we don't have a faulty computer hooked up to the sun, so it will be shining even if the rest of us are out looting Wal-Mart.

But I am afraid of a few things about this new time frame. Millennial or not, some scary stuff might happen in 2000.

I'm afraid that we will continue to have the deluge of lists we had this year. The end of the decade, the end of the century, the end of the millennium. And if everyone wants to take all those persnickety people's advice--the ones who say that the new millennium won't "officially" start until 2001--then all of those lists will be redone and reprinted and rebroadcast like bad sitcoms in the summer rerun season. Stop counting! Please. And someone needs to stop kissing Michael Jackson's ass and tell all the people at MTV that "Thriller" is not a very good video.

I'm afraid there will be no snow this year. That the Sandia mountains will remain bare and the only way I'll get my speed kicks will be to head north toward Colorado. Maybe the sun is getting a little too powerful.

If Al Gore, Bill Bradley, G.W. Bush or John McCain becomes President, I'm gonna be majorly bummed. Three non-personalities and a guy who thinks people liked Ross Perot because he was a quirky asshole. If any of these guys get voted in, be prepared for Jesse Ventura to be anointed Prez in the next 12 years or so. Because we want a personification of our country sitting in the big seat--not some stiff-bored pundit with ideas. Everybody's got ideas, but not everyone has charisma. And where are the women? I wanna vote for a chick sometime--but not a Republican chick, because that would be just too hypocritical to overcome.

I'm afraid that in the near future all of the pop songs will be sung by fifteen-year-old blonde anorexic girls who either used to be on the Mickey Mouse Club or Star Search. Now, believe me, I have no beef with Britney Spears. The first one, it's natural (well, mostly). And that Genie in the Bottle chick, I wasn't frightened then either. But Mandy and Jennie and Sandy and Brenda and all the rest are starting to get on my nerves. And they've got to stop singing the same song. It is the same song, isn't it? "I'm fifteen and you're not, but you still want to get with me..."

Everyone will adopt a .com to the end of their names in the new year. I'm not sure if this is a bad thing, but it'll certainly be creepy. I'd change my name to spankmeontheass.com, but I think it's already been taken.

Speaking of names, the former Marilyn Manson will now be known as the chemical symbol for the element mercury. Hg says he and his band have written 100 new songs for their next album. Can anyone tell me the chemical symbol for "too much cocaine?"

And lastly, I'm really afraid that nothing will happen when the new year comes. No disaster. No chaos. No anarchy. No seven horsemen. No hand of God smiting the heathens. No food or money shortages. No stop to the stock market's big run. No nothing. Everything will be the same. It will be like another day, another year, another decade, another century, another millennium. And it will be this huge non-event that freaks everyone out. Because we're all waiting for this big thing to MAYBE happen and when it doesn't we'll have all this stored up energy. It's kind of like when O.J. Simpson was found not guilty. And all the people who were ready to riot if he was found guilty didn't know what to do. So they wandered the streets like extras from the Night of the Living Dead looking for trouble.

And we all know what happens when pent-up people looking for trouble get loose. They find trouble. And usually it's people with trouble way too far in the back of their minds to react correctly.

So where will I be when all of this stuff happens? Will I be in my underground lair with Spam and tuna fish cans and gallons of water waiting for the big boom? Will I be out with the crazies looking for a five fingered discount? Where, oh where, will the columnist be?

Y'know, the usual. Passed out.

Matt Worley is also afraid that people might take him seriously in the new year, but he has taken steps to avoid this ugly development.