Wishing for a Y2K bug for awful people

JAKARTA (JP): Let's not talk about the next millennium. It's too long to contemplate. Confining ourselves to the 21st century is already ambitious, particularly for a short article like this. In fact very few people get to experience even a complete century. I know only one person whose life has extended beyond the hundred mark -- she lives near Chichester, England, and she's an interesting old lady because she was born in 1899 so if she doesn't overdo it before 1st January 2000, her life will have spanned from the 19th to the 21st centuries.

With the accelerating rate of change that seems to apply to all aspects of life, it's virtually impossible to make any useful predictions concerning the end of the next century, let alone ponder what might happen over the whole millennium. Arthur C. Clarke was one of the few bold enough to try and he once said humankind may achieve immortality by the year 2100. Well, if that's so, let's hope one of the eternal humans solves the problem of getting rid of those bits of fluff and grit that accumulate at the bottom of one's briefcase. (Actually, I entertain no such hopes -- I only said that to see if some smart Alec would jeer, "Briefcases! Do you really think they'll still be in use after 2010?" Well, did you?)

One thing we can be certain of is that there'll be a lot more people around next century. Some countries have their populations set to double within the next few decades -- a scary proposition given the environmental issues that worry many people. And with so many more humans around, there's likely to be an increase in the number of annoying situations one encounters -- there are already too many people requiring special efforts to tolerate them or who are best avoided altogether. I hope Mr. Clarke was wrong about immortality because if those folk hang around forever, they'll be spreading their undesirable characteristics around the world -- and one has to assume the universe beyond -- indefinitely. In fact they'd have to be dealt with by the Almighty. If he were ever to get his hands on them.

In this final month of the 1900's, I'm offering a warning that the following frustrations will still be around next century.

Switchboard operators will still cut you off mid-sentence and make you listen to something tedious on the radio -- and when you ring off, call again and say if you wanted to listen to the radio, you'd simply turn it on, not make a telephone call, they'll still say you have to listen to it while your call is being connected -- and then give it you again.

There'll still be taxi-drivers who say they have change at the start of the journey (because you ask specially) and "discover" they have none at the end -- and there'll still be waiters who assiduously scan every corner of the restaurant whilst standing with their backs to you, when you're the only diner requiring service.

Some banks' 24-hour telephone banking service will continue to take so long to connect you to a customer service representative that it would be quicker to go to the bank and queue up; some will still run ATM's that are often empty of cash or simply not working and debit a service charge from your account when you're forced to use your card in another bank's ATM.

And there'll still be men going around with cartoon characters printed on their ties.

These irritations will be difficult to tackle whilst retaining the air of competent, urbane calm that The Jakarta Post readers seek to cultivate. Some infringements of good taste/behavior however, should be addressed next century with a certain panache, and for those who share my predilections I recommend firm counteractive measures against the following perpetrators:

1. People who, when involved in an important discussion, leave their mobile phones on so they can be interrupted by something trivial.

Remedy: Interrupt the interruption -- promptly address the person directly with a complicated question requiring an immediate response.

2. Minor celebrities who whilst outlining their careers to date finish off with "...and the rest is history." (It isn't. History will forget them. Ask Arthur C Clarke.)

Remedy: Using the TV remote control, apply the "skip" function to the MTV channel, to avoid accidental reception.

3. Acquaintances (or worse still, strangers) who recite lengthy and unnecessarily intimate details of their ailments.

Remedy: Glazed-over expression and complete immobility for a full 30 seconds. Failing that, tell them you qualified as a doctor (they know you're in advertising or engineering) and sympathetically insist on conducting a full medical examination right now.

4. TV clothes commentators who pretend to find common trends and themes in fashion collections of such arbitrary, pretentious self-indulgence that it's clear at least one con is being worked somewhere.

Remedy: Turn the volume off and enjoy the models!

5. People who arrive at your office 25 minutes late for a meeting, with the message "So-and-so is on the way, please start without him/her."

Remedy: Ask them to wait in reception till the arrival of the last attendee, then keep them waiting for the same period again before starting the meeting. Don't apologize for the late start.

6. Men who, wearing only a pair of socks, chat whilst strutting around the changing room for an unreasonably long time (i.e. more than 7 seconds).

Remedy: leave garden shear handles protruding from your half- open sports bag.

Have a good century!

-- Michael Upton