Remembering Y2K – by Steven Chamblee
Most of us remember the Y2K non-event. Just before midnight, December 31, 1999, we all held our breath, anticipating everything from global blackouts to Armageddon. As for me, I was broke and living solo in a 400 square foot rent house near TCU … but I had enough cash for a big bottle of Belgian ale, so I sat in bed, pleasantly sipping away while I waited for the world to collapse…
Nothing happened, or so we all thought. But when I returned to work at the Fort Worth Botanic Garden on January 2 … well … even now, I’m speechless. Good thing I took notes.
From exactly 25 years ago today …
WHY TOOKAY??
While the world at large saw few glitches and fewer hitches over the millennium rollover, the Fort Worth Botanic Garden is still reeling from the enormous problems with, of all things, the plants!!
When the century plant rolled over, the thyme didn’t work on the clock vine and the compass plant didn’t know which way to turn. Then the four o’clock got in a squabble with the eleven o’clock. Sundews and sunflowers were seen ganging up on the moonflowers and nightshades, at least until the night blooming cereus got involved. The Thanksgiving and Christmas cacti tried to trample the Easter lilies. Luckily, the archangel intervened. The Chinese lanterns all went out, so they had to be replaced with candle trees and a chandelier plant. The dumb cane finally spoke to the cauliflower ear, and then turned into a chatterbox. Not to be outdone, the touch-me-not had a run-in with the forget-me-not, until what was once love in a mist turned into love lies bleeding. Adding to the chaos, the perennially patient impatiens called the police when they spotted creeping Charlie in a drunkard’s dream with Candytuft, and they were singing, “Oh my darlin’, lemon thyme.” Authorities said locoweed was involved.
Politics at the Garden did not escape the foray, as the Confederate rose again. Meanwhile, as the English ivy was trying to reclaim the American hollies, the bermudagrass ran right through St. Augustine. Naturally, this affected the money tree, which was downsized to dollar weed before being reduced to a quarter vine. Goldenrod and goldenrain tried to escape with silverberry and the silver dollar, until they found themselves looking down a golden barrel.
On the bright side, balloon flowers welcomed the first baby’s breath, which shed baby tears while the gardeners were counting baby toes. Of course, the beeches, birches, cherries, and mulberries all were weeping. The organ pipe cactus bellowed and the burning bush glowed, the snowdrop dropped snow on the mountain and the star of Bethlehem shined. Jack was in the pulpit when he spied Sweet William with Heather, and boy howdy did Johnny jump up when he found out!
As the gold dust settles out, maybe things will return to normal around here. Until yesterday, today, and tomorrow figure themselves out, the cosmos may never be the same again. Why it all happened in the first place is still a wisteria.
Images by Steven Chamblee and Neil Sperry.
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I need a road trip! Let me know if you’d like me to come and speak to your group sometime. I’m low maintenance, flexible, and you know I like to go just about anywhere. No city too big; no town to small. Just send me an e-mail at stevenchamblee@yahoo.com and we’ll work something out.