It’s the time of year when people start putting their New Year’s resolutions into action. The vast majority will fail within three months. I didn’t make any, so if I have any success in 2019 I come out a winner. (Don’t you love my logic?)
What I do have, though, are my New Year’s predictions and they come from a most reputable source. When I went to bed on New Year’s Eve I quickly went into dreamland where I was met by none else but Nostradamus himself. The 16th century French prophet is known for his amazingly accurate predictions. Some of his predictions for 2019 are that we’ll have a third world war, an asteroid will destroy much of the population, there will be battles fought over limited resources, and, the Dr. Dolittle effect: people talking to animals. (He wrote, “The pigs will become brothers to man.”)
Well, ole Nostri gave me a taste of what he’d been drinking, and, lo and behold, I saw the future, too—but in a much more limited fashion. So here are a few of my predictions:
Due to budget cuts, the OPD equestrian squad will begin using stick horses. Heigh-ho, Woodie, away!
Square Books will excavate a huge basement beneath the Courthouse to sell previously undiscovered books from discarded manuscripts of famous writers. The prize capture so far is John Grisham’s first attempt at writing a novel at age eight—the Looney Tunes inspired mystery, The Coyote. Also featured will be Ace Atkins’ jettisoned foray into science fiction and religion, Space Chaplains. The name of the new store? Under-the-Square Books.
The Yalobusha Brewing Company will launch a new beer delivery system called “Drunk Drones.” I predict that it’s gonna fly.
The Frye & Reeves arm bands sponsored will be equipped with sensors that tell you when you’ve had too much to drink, and will automatically call a cab and your mother. In a related development, the OPD will set up a substation in The Library. The “I Got Booked in The Library” mug shots will go viral.
Ron Shapiro will be voted “Oxford’s Favorite Townie for Life.” (Stupid me thought that had already been done.)
The Lyric Theater will begin requiring that every person attending events must bring their own security escort. Cobra Security will change its name to Cobra Security and Escort Service, making Oxford the capital of escort services in the South. The tax proceeds will far exceed the revenue from Ole Miss football, even when Eli was here, but not from the parking meters which will charge $10 per hour with a 59-minute maximum reserved time.
Forty-nine states will officially recognize the Stennis Flag as the state flag of Mississippi. The one hold out? Mississippi, of course.
Suffering from the loss of yet one more leader, Ole Miss will try out a Chancellor-of-the-Month Club, with different Oxfordians serving as Chancellor each month. At the end of the year a semi-permanent Chancellor (aren’t they all?) will be selected from the twelve.
In an effort to reach wider audiences, Fat Possum Records will diversify with other labels such as Petite Possum, Oh Possum, Punk Possum, and Possum Gospel.
Sports Illustrated will do the photo shoot for their annual swimsuit edition at Sardis Lake.
Ole Miss’ marijuana farm will disappear, one plant at a time. When law enforcement discovers a hidden tunnel, they will find Haley Barbour and Trent Lott in mole costumes, smoking pot and eating Cheetos and Ding Dongs. The comrades-in-joints will be allowed to steal away in a veil of darkness and the tunnel will be filled with concrete made from recycled Confederate statues.
Finally, I will learn the hard way my own personal answer to the Beatles’ questions in “When I’m 64” when I join that club on February 6 and, having been out till a quarter to three, find my own door locked, that no one still needs me, and no one will feed me. Hungry and alone, I will freeze to death in the Southwest corner of The Balcony. When my obituary is printed, true to form, the picture that runs with it will be that of Randy Yates, not me.
Happy New Year, folks!
And that’s the view from The Balcony.
