"The future seems to me no unified dream but a mince pie, long in the baking, never quite done."
-- E.B. White
Like E.B. White, I also see the future as somewhat half-baked. But that won't stop me from joining dozens of other writers and various media types in making some predictions for 2006.
For example, I forecast without fear or favor that KFC's highly advertised new "all-breast-meat" chicken wings will be a fly-away success. In fact, the product will be so successful that it will spur McDonald's to create a new Happy Meal item: all-beef fish sticks.
I predict that bank robbers who are apprehended will take a cue from Congress and attempt to avoid prosecution by giving the money they stole to charities. I predict that a hurricane will strike Corpus Christi, Texas, and that Pat Robertson will say it was the will of God because Texas misspelled Christ. I predict that Jerry Falwell will eat Pat Robertson. (Have you looked at ol' Jabba Jerry lately?)
I predict that Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise will become parents and that their baby will immediately ask to be adopted by Angelina Jolie. I predict that Britney will dump K-Fed -- and that he will immediately ask to be adopted by Angelina Jolie. I forecast that Craig Brewer's next movie will be about a pair of gay Memphis drug dealers. It will be called Smoke Crack Mountain.
I predict you will get at least one e-mail a day offering to enlarge your manhood. And at least three prominent "family values" conservatives will be busted for homosexual behavior or illegal drugs or infidelity. I predict that the Memphis Tigers will win the NCAA championship and that Rodney Carney will sign an endorsement deal for Wendy's new grilled-tuna chicken fingers.
And I predict that you will enjoy another 51 issues of the Flyer. Or double your money back.
Bruce VanWyngarden, Editor
Exactly seven years ago this week, I wrote a column decrying a proposal by city engineers to turn the Overton Park Greensward into an 18-foot-deep "detention basin" designed to stop flooding in Midtown. The engineers claimed we'd hardly notice the football-field-sized bowl. "Except," I wrote then, "when it rains hard, at which time, users of Overton Park would probably notice a large, 18-foot-deep lake in the Greensward. Or afterward, a large, muddy, trash-filled depression."