We’re Going Fix The ‘Oops’ With A ‘Whut’?

My favorite running story these days is the Year 2000 Problem. This is the wonderful news that come midnight Dec. 31, 1999, all computers will tick over a notch and announce that it is Jan. 1, 1900.

If you believe the most dire analyses of the consequences of this slight misunderstanding, planes will then fall from the sky, ballistic missiles will run amok, global financial markets will crash, hospital life-support systems will shut down, your microwave won’t work, your Pontiac won’t start, and in general, a fine time will be had by all.

Not being a computer expert, I can’t explain why the computers can’t figure out the year 2000, except that it seems to be a giant case of “Oops!” The computer guys forgot to program it in. And for reasons only the experts understand, it is apparently impossible to invent a program to change it now. The only way to fix it is to open every single computer and reprogram every single calendar chip individually - the computer equivalent of going in there with a screwdriver, which is incredibly expensive.

Estimates range from $300 billion to $600 billion worldwide to fix the problem. Ooops.

I am watching this impending global catastrophe play out on the small stage of the Texas Legislature, and what a merry scene it is. Now, far be it from me to paint with a broad brush; we all know there are many people in West Texas who are cosmopolitan, sophisticated and advanced out the wazoo. But let’s face it: There are also a bunch of West Texans who haven’t approved of any technological change since the pickup truck and air conditioning.

Obviously, we could include East Texas, North Texas and South Texas in that sweeping statement if we want to, but there is something particularly delicious in the sound of a West Texas legislator listening to some expert explain why the state has to spend hundreds of millions of dollars to fix this do-hickey and reacting with a stupefied “Do whut?”

This is heaven for every technophobe in America and around the globe. It’s the Luddites’ revenge; it’s the Grumpy Old Reactionaries’ Ball. It’s sweet satisfaction for every person who has ever been baffled by a computer. It’s one in the eye for everyone who can’t tell a bit from a byte.

Personally, I think the whole thing can be neatly summed up by “Do whut?”

Right now, the state’s problem is trying to figure out (a) how serious the problem is and (b) who should fix it. As we might expect of our fellow citizens, many people have already seized upon this lemon and are making lemonade. Companies that are in the business of fixing your Year 2000 Problem for a modest arm-and-a-leg are among the hottest stocks on Wall Street. Without naming names, there is a widespread suspicion that some of these folks may be overcharging.

Envision your basic West Texas legislator confronted with the gladsome tidings that the first thing we have to do is hire some consultant who charges $1,000 a day. Next, watch Rep. G.E. “Buddy” West of Odessa dealing with the concept of paying $1 million for a 30-day study of the problem, resulting in a five-page report. “How can you spend $1 million in 30 days?” inquired Buddy West, in a reasonable tone of voice given the circumstances.

Actually, this is a problem many of us are familiar with: Something goes wrong with a major appliance in your home, and you call the guy who charges you $38.50 to come out and look at it and announce that it will cost you at least $300 to fix it. This is just on a slightly larger scale. OK, a much larger scale.

Far be it from me to use the millennium monster as an excuse to bash the cyberworld. On the other hand, I recently heard a speech by Louis Rossotto, editor of Wired magazine, on C-SPAN. Rossotto held forth eloquently on the glories of cyberspace, which is fair enough, but he also denounced all the schnooks who don’t get it.

I like Wired magazine. I even like the concept of a parallel universe out there in cyberspace, untroubled by failed government and the failed media. A new forum, a new civitas, a world where ideas are money and there are no limits. Wow.

So, Rossotto oversells a trifle. It was a little like listening to those visionaries in 1969 explain about peace and love and free drugs and rock ‘n’ roll. I’m sure it will be a better world, and anyone who doesn’t get it probably is a schnook. But first, someone is going to have to explain it to Buddy West. Oops.

xxxx