It's My Party And I'll Resent Armageddon If I Want To.

Back Off, Mayans.


Have you all heard about this new movie - "2012?" Chock full of mind-bending special effects and a story that hinges on the fact that - according to the ancient Mayan calendar - the world will end on December 21st, 2012...?

(Yes, that movie called "2012.")

All right, well, I don't like it. Not one bit. Why? Because...not to make the imminent destruction of the world all about me or anything, but...

Hello?!? December 21st is my BIRTHDAY!

You think it's easy putting a NASCAR-themed fondue party together four days before Christmas? I swear, it's like people are just looking for an excuse not to make it. And now this. I can just hear it:

• "Sorry, Anna, but the world's about to end and I've got to return these movies to Blockbuster."
• "Can't make it, Anna. The earth is imploding and I need to lash my family to a raft."
• "Oops, bad timing, Big A. The world is crumbling and this seems like an ideal time to finish writing that novel."

Come on. These are only slightly better than the excuses I heard last year.

The Grudge.

I know why the ancient Mayans are doing this. Two years ago, they came to my birthday party, sucked down all the wine coolers and started looking for trouble. While I was making a run to the Gas 'N Sip to reload on Snapple and Circus Peanuts, they rearranged all of my neighbor's patio pavers and started shooting pre-Columbian hoop against the side of his house. You've never heard such trash talk. Let's just say my neighbor (I'll call him Father O'Murphy) was not amused.

Naturally, I did not invite them to last year's party, but you know how hard it is to keep a social event secret. (Especially when you accidentally mail an invitation and then try to take it back.) I regret to say that ancient Mayan feelings may have been bruised as a result.

And you know the old saying:

"If you're going to mess with an ancient Mayan,
you'd better have a friend idling nearby in a fast car.
A V-8, ideally. And, for God's sakes, make sure there's gas in it."

Check Your Calendar.

The good news is, I think I've found a loophole on this world destruction deal.

See, I don't follow the ancient Mayan calendar. (I can hear them coming when they sell them door-to-door so I mute the TV and lie down behind the sofa until they're all the way off the porch and on to the next house.)

For years now, I have instead followed the City of Oxnard Employee Credit Union calendar, partly because they don't enforce any particular date for world destruction, but mostly because each month has its own miniature illustration harkening back to a time when life was less complicated and, apparently, more glitter-coated.

So take that, party-poopers! You may tip over a few monuments, but you will not be spoiling my fondue fete, even three years in advance.

Speaking of which, I'd better buy that dipping cheese now and put it aside for the party. With all the pre-destruction panic, you know the cheese market will be through the roof.

 
[Note:  This is a re-issue of a previous post from - you guessed it - the last time the dang Mayans tried to make my birthday all about them.  I swear, just when I think I'm out of the woods, they push the Armageddon date back a liiiiittle bit further.]