Scott, how did you ring in the new millennium?
| S:2 E:6What were you doing on New Year’s Eve 1999? If Y2K means anything to you, you may have been worried about what would happen at the stroke of midnight. Today’s author had bigger problems to tackle on New Year’s eve 1999, but that didn’t stop him and his friends from making it a wild night to remember.
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Krista Baum:
Hi, welcome to the Storyworth Podcast. We're glad you're here. I'm your host, Krista Baum, co-founder of Storyworth. On this podcast, we feature true stories written by Storyworth writers. If you're new to Storyworth, we help people write their life stories, the big stories, and the small ones.
Once a week, we send our writers a question to help inspire their writing. They reply to the email with an answer or a story that comes to mind. At the end of the year, we print what they've written into a beautiful keepsake book.
Every story written using Storyworth is private. But for this podcast, the writers volunteered to share their stories publicly with you.
What were you doing on New Year's Eve 1999? If Y2K means anything to you, you may have been worried about what would happen at the stroke of midnight; computer shutdowns, power grid explosions, it was anyone's guess.
Scott Yates, today's author, had even bigger problems to tackle on New Year's Eve, 1999; namely navigating a messy and painful divorce. But that didn't stop him and his friends from making it a night to remember.
Scott is here, along with one of his best friends, to get into the details of their wild night. But before we talk to them, we're going to hear Scott's story as read by voice actor, Doug Bailey, as Scott tells us how he partied into the next millennium.
Doug Bailey:
I was on the threshold of a new year and a new millennium, and a looming computer induced apocalypse known as Y2K.
But truthfully, at this point in time, the threat of widespread chaos brought on by a massive computer glitch at midnight was really the least of my worries. I'd already endured a strained and very unpleasant holiday season.
I discovered a cheating wife. I'd confronted the aforementioned cheating wife. I was in the process of moving out of the house I purchased with the cheating wife only months earlier. You could say 1999 wasn't my year, but all this drama was finally coming to a close, and the process of extracting myself from its vortex was underway.
Needless to say, I was ready for a break, I'd earned it. Maybe I could salvage the last day of the year by accepting an invitation from my good friend Jason to hang out that New Year's Eve.
The get-together hosted by another friend Michael, sounded like a proper stress reliever, or at least a much-needed diversion. The party was on the outskirts of Albuquerque, New Mexico.
On our way over, Jason and I made a feeble attempt to be thoughtful guests, and we picked up a few things for our host. Our contributions to the evening would consist of a few bags of chips and a one-liter bottle of cinnamon schnapps liqueur called Hot Damn, bring on the single guy vibes. It was an uneducated choice, and if I'm honest, it was based purely on our attraction to the shiny gold flakes floating freely within the long-necked bottle. “This looks good,” we said in unison with ignorant confidence transfixed in front of the store display.
We arrived at Michael's house. I told myself I wouldn't stay too long. I had a lot of packing to do back at my house — the house I shared with my cheating ex-wife. I assumed I'd ring in the new year, gathering the last of my belongings and making my final escape, probably shouting “good riddance” over my shoulder.
I kept my expectations low for the evening and just wanted to enjoy myself, if only for a few hours. Jason and I were in agreement. We weren't normally partygoers, and for the most part, we were non-drinkers.
At first, we snacked, drank sodas, and played pool on Michael's enclosed porch. I relished the guy talk and the laughter over the games of eight-ball, and found myself smiling for the first time in weeks, maybe even months.
As the hours passed, Michael, who was the drinker of the bunch, brought out an impressive array of beer and spirits. Now, I had little experience with alcohol. I'd been tipsy before, but I considered myself a lightweight when it came to drinking. Jason was the same.
The two of us weren't particularly drawn to the alcohol buffet set up by Michael, but there were plenty of reasons to celebrate on that particular night. And after all, who knew what was lurking ahead in the year 2000. Taking our cue from the Prince song, it was time to party like it's 1999.
So, we sipped some beer and sampled the Hot Damn cinnamon schnapps. This continued for a couple hours, no water, no periods of respite, and most definitely, not enough food to counterbalance the alcohol. We had effectively settled in for the evening.
As the drinks poured on and the night progressed, the intoxicated laughter and silliness took hold. Jason in his stupor started performing yo-yo tricks, of all things. With a goofy grin plastered to his face, he slung the yo-yo with impressive skill while simultaneously, circling the pool table giggling to himself. The laughter was infectious.
As the speed of his orbit grew more dizzying and the yo-yo tricks more frenzied, it might not come as a surprise that by this time, the Hot Damn liquor bottle was completely empty.
Michael was a generous bartender, and dozens of beer cans and various liquor bottles littered the small game room. And that's when I felt an unmistakable sensation. My stomach lurched, my heart beat faster and my face flushed with sweat. I had reached the point where I needed to expel everything I'd consumed.
I dodged the game room furniture and vaulted over the empty beverage containers making for the back door. I was determined to contain my gastric urges until I was safely outside. And if puke preventing parkour was a competitive sport, I would've been headed to the Sydney Olympics the following summer.
I made it just in time to empty my stomach across Michael's wooden fence. I was in rough shape, bent over, hands on my knees in a cold sweat when Michael and Jason appeared beside me. They patted me on the back, and I heard both of them telling me in stereo, “You're going to be okay, man. Just let it out.” I felt their full support and did exactly that.
When I finished vomiting, I began pouring out my feelings about my situation with my former cheating wife, and venting all the pent-up anger and resentment that had been simmering the entire holiday season.
And once again, Jason and Michael, now, my two best friends in the whole world, were there for me. They offered support by contributing their own derisive remarks about my ex and how I dodged a bullet and would come out on top. With more pats on the back, they assured me everything would be okay.
Standing out there in the chilly December night air beside a vomit-splattered fence, my friends offered a surprisingly effective support group. It was therapeutic and even exhilarating to let lose all the pent-up frustration and grief toward my cheating ex. And I let it all out that night if only she could have heard it.
Jason would become the second victim of the night's escapades. And luckily, he found an empty soda carton and spared the fencing. Michael and I reciprocated the affection and took turns patting Jason on the back and offering words of brotherly encouragement. “Just let it out, man. Just let it out.” We consoled Jason with the utmost seriousness and empathy.
Amazingly, we managed to stay conscious until midnight. It felt like an incredible feat to still be standing together, battle scars and all to welcome in the new year and advance to a new millennium.
As the clock struck 12:00 AM, I had just enough faculties to remember the mass chaos set to occur with the Y2K bug: “Will the entire city's power grid flicker out along with the contents of my entire bank account? Will the forewarned turn of the century, computer glitch trigger nuclear war?” I bolted to test out the light switches and demonstrated to my friends they were functioning properly.
“Lights work,” I shouted, victorious. “Don't worry. lights work.” We were undeniably spared from catastrophe, and it was time for bed. I staggered out of the game room and the details from this point on are nearly non-existent. I was placed in a room to sleep it off with an empty soda carton of my own.
I woke up early the next morning in that unfamiliar room, groggy and confused. I looked down at myself and realized not only had I lost my dignity, but also, my shirt. But on the other hand, it was now the year 2000, a new millennium full of possibility. I pulled on my jacket and drove home to resume my packing with a newfound sense of resolve.
As I recovered from my drunken escapade, I realized what a much-needed release it had been for me. Considering the heartbreak and upheaval I endured that season, I was thankful to celebrate the new millennium with such worthy company, and even walk away with a bit of a funny story.
There may not have been fireworks, but there was certainly a sense of triumph that night. And considering how the computer networks continued to function and civilization didn't plunge into the dark ages, after all, it seemed worthwhile to establish a New Year's resolution. I resolved to open myself up once again to fun and happiness while going easy on the alcohol.
[Music Playing]
To this day, the smell of cinnamon makes me queasy, and I'm unwilling to give cinnamon schnapps a second chance. But I kept my resolution and the friendships that really matter, and it's made all the difference.
Krista Baum:
I got to chat with Scott and his friend and fellow partier, Jason, as you'll hear they've got history. So, guys, how did your friendship begin?
Jason:
I met Scott in high school, gosh, over 30 years ago. And so, it's kind of funny how we connected and became friends in English class. I think the first thing that I noticed was a ball cap that Scott was wearing had a symbol from a sci-fi TV show. When you're in school, you have your different social groups, your jocks, your preps, and whatnot.
And so, the group that we centered around was more of like the nerdy group. We had a lot of great times on our lunch breaks. We were able to leave campus. The high school though, that we went to Highland happens to be the same high school that Beavis and Butt-Head and Mike Judge from.
Taco Bell was advertising a Rocky and Bullwinkle movie that had just come out the same time. I had the idea of switching around some of the letters to create new words. And so, instead of it saying, “Welcome …” what was it Scott? “Welcome blotus.” We switched up the letters and …
Scott Yates:
What did it read? I forget now.
Jason:
Welcome butt lovers. We now have bull weenies.
Scott Yates:
Yeah, that was it.
Krista Baum:
For our younger listeners, what was Y2K? I know this, but they might need to know.
Scott Yates:
Oh, the big story at the time was that the computers were going to be confused once it switched over to 2000.
So, there was a lot of predictions, expectations for the computer system to crash or not work at all. And then, that story kind of got carried over to the electrical systems and the lights and the utilities, and it was just kind of a big story where nothing would work.
Krista Baum:
So, kind of the end of the world as we knew it. Yeah.
Scott Yates:
Yes.
Jason:
Yes. And if I can add to that, I work retail. I'd been working with a retail store since the dawn of time, and when Y2K, right before it hit even six months, a year prior to it, people were stocking up on supplies, especially water, canned goods.
In the back of my mind, I really didn't think Y2K was going to affect society as we know it. Even if it did Scott, I talked to him and said, “We're entering a new century, I want to go out with a big bang, party like it's 1999 and yeah.”
Krista Baum:
Was this just like a Y2K party because you wanted to party like it was 1999, or did you like know that Scott needed this to kind of jumpstart him?
Jason:
Yes, like Scott said, he and I had similar events happen to us far as a divorce and whatnot. And so, Scott was there for me for my divorce. And so, when he was going through his divorce, I was there for him. And so, I wanted him to come out of his shell and get out.
And neither one of us are really hardcore party goers. I mean, we're your typical nerd, sci-fi, Star Wars, Star Trek people. And so, I had another friend unfortunately, has passed on. Michael, he was more of the party goer, and he was another close friend of mine, very close.
Krista Baum:
Do you remember Scott kind of getting this physical catharsis but also kind of an emotional one as he was in this kind of sick state? Do you remember that part?
Scott Yates:
Both of you, if you remember, you were very supportive.
Jason:
Yes.
Scott Yates:
And what I remember is what do you do when you get divorced? You badmouth your ex. And that was extremely helpful. And both of us are really good-natured. We're not ones to be violent, we're not mean-spirited. So, it was kind of nice to have that support even though it was drunk support. It was nice to have that support.
Krista Baum:
Jason, do you want to tell me, what do you remember from this night?
Jason:
Everything was quite vivid from going to the store. We wanted to splurge and get something different other than your traditional like Pabst Blue Ribbon or Coors. And so, we got Goldschlager which was a mistake, Hot Damn.
Went to my friend Michael's house, listening to some Metallica. And that's pretty much all we listen to is Metallica, Master of Puppets. And I still have that CD. I have it in my car. The exact same CD.
Krista Baum:
As you should. Yeah.
Jason:
Yes, yes. And it was just a fun time of a few guys hanging out and enjoying the evening and welcoming the new year.
Krista Baum:
This terrible thing happens, and I can imagine a world where you're trying to deal with this in a mature way, but then you finally get some permission to just get it all off your chest. You're not like trying to manage how you feel and how you react, and it just like all comes out, and that makes you feel better. And then you can kind of pick yourself up.
Scott Yates:
Exactly, yes. It was a nice opportunity to just kind of let those negative emotions go and focus on something fun and positive.
Krista Baum:
And the next morning, how were you guys?
Jason:
So, I definitely had a hangover and it lasted for a few days.
Scott Yates:
I don't recall even checking on anybody. I didn't have a shirt on like I said in the story. I had a jacket, and I was fine just leaving the house like that and not even asking any questions.
I don't remember being sick, but I have the same trauma, if you will. A lot of stores that you walk into, they'll use these cleaners that have that cinnamon scent, and it just makes me sick as well.
Krista Baum:
Jason, you helped Scott shake off this big terrible thing. What do you think was the most helpful thing that you did?
Jason:
Just being there, supportive. I think over the years, he got my back more than vice versa. He was always there for me whenever I needed help.
Scott Yates:
I moved into his same apartment complex and just that friendship and that camaraderie. I mean, we were just steps away. We were neighbors. There's a hot tub, there's a pool. He celebrated his kids' birthdays there, and it was kind of a security blanket for me at the time. He has a smile on his face all the time, so it just tells me everything is going to be okay.
Jason:
With Scott always being there by my side, I was more of the comic relief, always to get Scott to laugh. He mentioned the jacuzzi in the apartment complex. And so, one particular night, we went down to the jacuzzi and I had this idea from watching an episode of The Brady Bunch, where one of the kids is doing laundry and they put too much soap in the washer.
And so, I had this brilliant idea of putting some dish soap in the jacuzzi just to see what would happen. It was just a very little amount, but the amount of bubbles that it created was just astronomical. I mean, it was huge.
Krista Baum:
Did you get your security deposit back, Jason?
Jason:
Yeah, they did shut down the jacuzzi and the pool for about a week. They had to drain it and clean it, and it was fun being in the jacuzzi with all these bubbles. But after a while, yeah, when you have like five feet of bubbles above your head … well, it was fun, but yeah.
Scott Yates:
As you can see, it's just all the stress kind of disappears because he has a playful personality. You just can't help but forget all that stuff.
[Music Playing]
Krista Baum:
Thanks for joining us today. If you want to get started writing your life stories or want to give the gift of Storyworth to a loved one, head over to storyworth.com. If you'd like one of your stories to be considered for a future episode, go to storyworth.com/podcast.
In our next episode …
Josh Perelman-Hall:
Besides the mandatory academic pursuits, we had other critical lessons to learn in the walls of Warren High, knowing our place in the hierarchy of high school society, who to avoid and how to avoid them, understanding the double-edged sword of procrastination, and the mysterious and indecipherable enigma of girls.
Krista Baum:
The hierarchy of high school in the 1960s, and how one man remembers navigating that social maze.
Storyworth is a production of Evergreen Podcasts hosted by me, Krista Baum, and produced by Hannah Rae Leach. We get production help from Jill Granberg, and our mix engineer is Sean Rule-Hoffman.
We'll see you next time.
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