My year cannot possibly start properly without seeing Dick Clark and
his lovely wife ring in the 80-millionth consecutive new year with a
kiss on national television. I don't care if they celebrate it an hour
early for those of us in the central time zone! I was robbed of this
time-honored tradition.
And in favor of what? If memory serves (and it could be a little
foggy, given the particular night in question) it was the local news!
Not even the lame Dallas version of Times Square with at least 1/1000
of the people, excitement, and importance. You stole my year to report
that Joe Blow was setting up the Big D(isappointment) hours earlier! I
don't give a damn what happened hours ago. Especially not while I'm
trying to watch that cute little old man get his ONE moment of the
night back from Carrion Seacrest.
Whatever programmer decided it was more important to see the crappy
local news than watch the biggest New Year's Eve celebration IN THE
WORLD reach it's charming annual climax in a loving kiss should be
tossed out the door. And let that be a lesson to the next idiot who
thinks we care what half-baked seventeenth-fiddle celebration is
happening locally.
Give me Dick Clark! The man only has so many more of these left in
him, so let's not upset the pattern again until we have to.
Starting the year with a black cloud looming overhead,
Patrick James
