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PubNight denizens: it has fallen to me to write the climactic final e-mail of 2004, the one that will perfectly represent the 51 that preceded it. And that is a deceptively difficult task. How *do* you measure a year? In sunlight? In moonlight? In midnights and cups of coffee? In terms that aren't stolen from a crappy rock musical?
Frankly, I don't know. So I'm not writing that e-mail -- instead I've decided to write the first e-mail of 2005, and let the next poor sucker be responsible for a year-end retrospective next week. Some might balk at the lack of continuity, but they can all bite me.
Anyway, in the original e-mail I'd planned to write a touching elegy to people we lost in 2004, but that's no longer appropriate. Instead, I'll use this space to write a touching elegy to people who we're *going* to lose in the coming year: Jo Ann Worley, John Glenn, Zsa Zsa Gabor, Olympia Dukakis, Hugh Downs, and Suzanne Somers. (Trust me.) Their flames burn ever bright, and they will be missed once they're actually gone.
Enough of this gay banter. This week we wanted something light and low-key, and by God, that's what we're getting in Tribe.
Please come and help me answer the above question. What *would* Jay Konopka do?
-MKTJP