1999

It was the annual trip to cut down a Christmas tree that put us on Interstate 95 yesterday, headed for Jones's Tree Farm in Shelton, Connecticut. We've been going there since 1977, and when my wife told that to one of the woman who was handing out the bow saws she exclaimed, "that's when I was born." It has been a while.

The difference this year is that after all those years of a live tree, my wife and I have mutually agreed to use an artificial tree, one my oldest daughter Nancy recommended, and one she bought for us, and one she is going to help us put up.

I am not missing the wrestling match a live tree requires. No, this trip was for the daughter Susan and her husband to now get a live tree for their new home, just like the one they got last year. The family tradition is alive and well.

The drive to Shelton is not a short one from Nassau County. It is nearly 90 miles in each direction and a commitment to an entire day out is required. The tree farm has expanded over the years and now offers wine from their vineyards, something my wife gets joy out of. There are arts and crafts gifts, ornaments,  wreaths, garland, hot chocolate and cookies.

The trip this year to the tree farm was altered by an accident on I-95. A person who was trying to repair something with their car was hit by another vehicle and wound up trapped under their car. Hours elapsed. and the road going north between Exits 16 and 18 was closed A detour onto U.S. 1, the Post Road, was necessary, treating us to a crawl through Westport and Southport and being delayed by all the traffic lights. At least we got to see a town we wouldn't have ordinarily gone through.

At some point we went over a small bridge that went over a body of water that I couldn't identify. I was struck by the year carved into the wall of the bridge: 1999.

Not hard to do the math and realize that 1999 is 21 years from today. Twenty-one years hardly makes the bridge historic and serving as a route for the Paul Reveres of the Revolutionary War era to have travelled on.

How odd to now see a year start with 19, followed by two more 9s.  It looks ancient. It looks like the numbers should be carved into "two vast and trunkless legs of stone."

For years we kept our 1999 Buick LeSabre as a second car that was handy for the girls to borrow when theirs were being repaired, or something. The car was inspected, registered and was a styling standout to what cars used to look like; no jelly-bean look. It predated Y2K!

Eventually, we had to get rid of the car because it could no longer pass inspection. A elderly neighbor had backed into it leaving her driveway and dented it ever so slightly. The damage was nothing compared to the embarrassment they suffered, and their desire to pay for a repair.

"No, please, forget it. This car predates Y2K. how much does your son-in-law want to back his truck into it and put it out of its misery for good?"

Why does 1999 look so ancient? Numbers carved into stone not yet eroded away, but soon to be. Is it because I'm reading a book that is about the murder of a grad student in Harvard's Archaeology school in 1969?

Paper checks for the longest time were always prefixed with 19 on the date line. As we got closer to the hardly cataclysmic year 2000, the 19 prefix disappeared. Okay, less chance of getting it wrong when we sail into year 2000.

But why now that we're 20 years into 2000 do the check printers still choose to keep any suffix off the checks? No prefix 20 is seen. There is going to be 80 more years starting with 20. An old convention has been eliminated.

1999 predates so much. Graduations, weddings, 9/11, workplace murders/suicide, new job, retirement, Ph.D, (not mine), elections, heart attack. 

So recent. So long ago.

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