Last year, when I wrote my annual Year in Review, I looked at the events of 1997 -- in which the two most culturally significant events both involved famous men biting people -- and I concluded that there could not possibly ever again be a year as pathetic as that one.
Boy, was I a moron.I'm not saying that 1998 was ALL bad. There were some moments that made us feel good about ourselves. Mark McGwire hitting that 62nd home run was certainly one such moment. And then there was . . . Let's see . . . OK, how about Mark McGwire hitting that 63RD home run? THAT certainly made us feel good about ourselves!
In fact, if we had any brains at all, as a nation, we would have demanded that Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa be allowed to continue hitting home runs right on through December. Because they were pretty much the lone highlight.
The main reason why we felt bad about ourselves, of course, was the story that totally dominated the news of 1998 -- the story that at first fascinated us, but that was hyped and hammered on so relentlessly by the shrieking, hysterical, obsessive news media that we finally just wished it would GO AWAY so we could get on with our lives. I am referring, of course, to the last episode of "Seinfeld".
And that is why I am hoping, in all sincerity, that you have a barf bag handy as I begin my review of the year we just went through, starting with . . .
JANUARY
. . . which begins on an upbeat note. The economy is sizzling, and millions of small investors, overcoming their fear of getting burned in the stock market, are being lured by the siren call of Wall Street.
"Here little investor!" calls Wall Street. "Don't be afraid! C'mon boy! Here li'l 'vestor 'vestor 'vestor!"
The year starts to go downhill in mid-January when word leaks out of a shocking development in the ongoing investigation by special prosecutor Kenneth Starr, who has by this point traced the Whitewater scandal back to the administration of William Howard Taft. News reports leak out that a woman named Linda Tripp has provided Starr's office with compelling evidence that she has her hair styled by angry weasels. Also she has reportedly recorded telephone conversations with a former White House intern named Monica Lewinsky who claims that, for a period of nearly two years, she had an affiar with the president.
Meanwhile, the actual members of the public spends the month of January in movie theaters weeping as Leonardo DiCaprio is tragically transformed into The Human Popsicle in the blockbuster movie "Titanic."
In the Super Bowl, the Denver Donald Ducks defeat the Green Bay Goofys.
And speaking of goofy, in . . .
FEBRUARY
. . . the burgeoning national sex scandal worsens when word leaks out that, after she left the White House, Monica Lewinsky was apparently given an unusual amount of high-level help in her search for a job. A White House spokesperson vehemently denies this charge, insisting that "literally hundreds of other former White House interns were also offered the opportunity to pilot the Space Shuttle."
On the sports scene, the Winter Olympics in Nagano Japan, draws a U.S. television viewing audience estimated at 7 people. Nevertheless the games produce some memorable moments, most notably the finals of a new demonstration sport, Sumo Wrestler Ski Jumping, which is won by 600-pound Takumato "The Blowfish" Matakanaka with a record leap of nearly one meter. Nineteen spectators are killed in the resulting avalanche.
On the legal front, Oprah Winfrey successfully defends herself against a lawsuit brought by Texas cattlemen angered by an Oprah show in which beef was linked to "Mad Cow" disease. Enraged by the verdict, the cattlemen go on a rampage, bellowing, snorting, knocking over furniture and pooping all over the courtroom.
Speaking of crazy, in . . .
MARCH
. . . suspicion grows that Saddam Hussein may be violating the terms of the latest weapons agreement when a team of U.N. inspectors, having requested permission to view a suspected chemical-weapons facility in Baghdad, is escorted by Iraqi officials to what is later determined, by computer-assisted intelligence analysis, to be a Dairy Queen in Danbury, Conn.
Meanwhile, the national sex scandal worsens as former White House aide Kathleen Willey tells "60 Minutes" that when she went to the Oval Office seeking job help, the president made an aggressive effort to feel her pain.
But the big development is the anti-impotence drug Viagra, which is finally approved by the federal government following the delivery of what is described as a "courtesy trial sample," consisting of seven tons of the blue pills, to the home of influential Sen. Strom Thurmond (R-Deceased).
Meanwhile, in . . .
APRIL
. . . the Historic Tobacco Agreement of 1997 collapses when it is discovered that there is still one American lawyer, believed to be located in North Dakota, who is not going to get any money out of it.
Speaking of sex, the White House gets some good news when a federal judge throws out the Paula Jones sexual harassment lawsuit on the grounds that, quote, "her nose looks totally different." In other scandal news, Kenneth Starr grills first lady Hillary Rodham Clinton for five hours in front of a grand jury, but is unable to link her to a series of convenience-store robberies in Newark, N.J.
Meanwhile, in . . .
MAY
. . . Special Sex Prosecutor Kenneth Starr accidentally subpoenas himself.
But the scariest international news comes from India, which shocks the world by setting off three underground nuclear blasts. Fears that India's action will trigger a new arms race are soon realized when, 17 days later, India's archenemy Pakistan sets off a nuclear device of its own; and then a few days after that, Earl A. Crablick of East Orange, N.J., who according to neighbors "doesn't get along with anybody," sets off HIS nuclear device.
Hundreds of millions of TV viewers tune in to the intensively hyped final episode of "Seinfeld," which features guest appearances by Keith Hernandez, Yoko Ono, Stephen Hawking, the Pope, the Rockettes, Beethoven and Harry Truman.
And in yet another indication of the declining educational standards, the National Spelling Bee is won in a record four minutes by 11-year-old Tracy Plackett, the only contestant not stumped by "car." And speaking of declining standards, the big story in . . .
JUNE
. . . is the visit by President Clinton to China. Although the president is unable to get the Chinese to agree to any major concessions on human rights, he is able to obtain what a high-level State Department source describes as "a real nice statuette of a yak."
In sports, the Chicago Bulls, led by the seemingly inhuman Michael Jordan, win the Stanley Cup. Meanwhile the biggest sports tournament of them all, the World Cup, gets under way in the host nation France, which greets guests from all over the world with a veritable festival of work stoppages. But things are under control by . . .
JULY
. . . when the coveted World Cup, in a major upset, is won by the lightly regarded team from Iraq, whose players wear gas masks and whose opponents wind up writhing on the field, wracked by mysterious illnesses.
On the presidential scandal front, a federal judge deals a blow to the Whitewater probe, tossing out an indictment against Webster Hubbell on the grounds that "it sounds like he has two last names."
Meanwhile, the cruise ship Ecstasy catches fire as it leaves Miami, but disaster is prevented by quick-thinking passengers who douse the flames with an estimated 300,000 gallons of pina colada, nearly a third of the ship's supply.
And speaking of intoxicating, in . . .
AUGUST
. . . the now-legendary Monica Lewinsky testifies before the grand jury, and in accordance with longstanding judicial traditions of fairness, her testimony is kept totally, completely secret for an estimated 12 minutes.
The drama reaches a climax on Aug. 17 when President Clinton testifies before the Starr grand jury for seven hours, five hours of which are taken up by the president's carefully worded response to the question "What is your name?"
On a more positive note, the U.S. Treasury Department announces that its new, updated version of the $20 bill will feature a portrait of Ally McBeal.
Meanwhile, in a severe blow to U.S. intelligence-gathering efforts, a top-secret, billion-dollar U.S. spy satellite explodes spectacularly shortly after takeoff from Cape Canaveral, spewing spies all over the place. Secret decoder rings are found as far away as Alabama. And speaking of massive screwups, in . . .
SEPTEMBER
. . . the national scandal gets completely out of hand with the publication of the Starr Report, which features explicit language and a glossy color centerfold photo of Monica Lewinsky.Within days, Hollywood has plans to release the report as a major motion picture, featuring Brad Pitt as the president and John Goodman as Linda Tripp.
On the worldwide economic front, the gloom deepens with the announcement that both Asia and Latin America are now completely broke and unemployed and have temporarily moved in with Europe until they can find a cheaper place of their own. U.S. stock prices continue to plunge, with most financial experts now advising small investors to "panic, sell your stocks at a huge loss and invest the meager proceeds in jerky."
Speaking of jerks, in . . .
OCTOBER
. . . the Nevada State Athletic Commission votes to reinstate Mike Tyson's boxing license, thus clearing the way for the long-anticipated grudge rematch between the former heavyweight champion and actress Robin Givens.
In other news involving arch-enemies, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat meet with President Clinton at the secluded Wye Plantation in rural Maryland. After a week of exhausting, round-the-clock meetings, the three leaders are finally able to reach a liquor store that will deliver to their location. After that it takes them approximately 15 minutes to come up with a historic peace agreement, which is rushed by military jet back to the Middle East to be broken.
In sports, the beginning of the National Basketball Association season is canceled when the players and owners are unable to agree on whether the players should be allowed to wear shorts that are longer than their actual legs.
But the most uplifting story of the month comes from the U.S. space program launches 77-year-old John Glenn into space. The mission costs $2.3 billion, but Glenn receives a $56 million senior-citizen discount, and through his experiments in orbit NASA is able to obtain invaluable information about how weightlessness affects older people. "Apparently," NASA reports, "it causes them to float around."
And speaking of incredible, in . . .
NOVEMBER
. . . elections are held nationwide, giving the Republican party (motto: "There's Plenty More Where Bob Dole Came From!") a chance to show its tactical skill. With every poll showing that the public is overwhelmingly sick of the sex scandal and does not want to hear one more word about the sex scandal, shrewd Republican strategists elect to spend millions of dollars to broadcast TV commercials harping on: the sex scandal! This does not sit well with the estimated 83 Americans who actually vote in the election; they resoundingly reject the Republican message, forcing Newt Gingrich to resign as speaker of the House of Representatives to pursue a long-postponed career in the private sector as a stocky person with an annoying voice.
On the scandal front, the president finally settles with Paula Jones, who gets $850,000 and a two-year appointment as Secretary of Education.
But the big story of November occurs on the international front, when the United States finally gets sick and tired of having its chain yanked by Saddam Hussein and decides to take care of him once and for all, using military force. After Iraq repeatedly refuses to allow weapons inspections, a determined President Clinton orders U.S. bombers into the air. Just as they reach the Iraqi border, the president receives an urgent fax from Saddam stating: "I'M SORRY!" So the president orders the bombers to turn back. The White House hails this as a major foreign-policy victory and the president celebrates by inviting Katarina Witt to the Oval Office. And speaking of celebrating, in . . .
DECEMBER
. . . NASA, elated over the publicity generated by the John Glenn shuttle mission, announces plans to send up the Spice Girls.
On the political front, Ross Perot, in a move that has major implications for the next presidential campaign, confirms published reports that he is the voice of the Taco Bell Chihuahua.
In sports, the Nevada Athletic Commission issues a boxing license to Charles Manson.
And thus 1998 goes out pretty much the way it came in, leaving us to face 1999, which is the year in which we need to fix the Y2K "Millennium Bug" problem, or at midnight on Dec. 31 all the computers in the world are going to go insane and civilization will collapse. Although I'm not sure anybody would notice. Anyway, happy new year.
© The Miami Herald. Dist. by Knight Ridder/Tribune Information Services.