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Is REM Sleep Y2K Compliant? By Solveig Singleton May 6, 1999
My home town is in Nelson, a beautiful community in southeastern British Columbia -- Steve Martin's movie Roxanne was filmed there. (Hollywood changed the name to Nelson, Washington, planted blue U.S. mailboxes here and there, and took down the Canadian flag on top of my Dad's apartment). The town is nestled in a mountain valley, and it's pretty far out of the way. So when I went home last Christmas, I though I was escaping Y2K. No way. I wandered into a local art gallery and happened to overhear a couple artists chatting about how bad "it" was going to be, and the need to store food and water. Indeed, preparations for Y2K are underway. Then my mother proudly announced her intention to store some water (Nelson is on the shores of a large clean lake. Its reservoir is gravity-fed). So I wasn't worried -- and I'm still not worried, in spite of last night's Y2K dream. There I am, in Nelson when Y2K rolls around. I'm running through the streets as the lights flicker and go out, and riots and looting begin. The Air Force arrives and begins to bombard the town. Joining me is my childhood friend Helen, and we look for a basement to hide in. When the planes depart and we emerge from a pile of crumpled beams and concrete slabs, a new threat arrives. This time it's a saucer-shaped space ship with three menacing tiers of windows. The aliens continue the bombardment. We try to head for the hills, but find a policewoman politely turning back anyone heading out town across what the locals call "The Orange Bridge." At this point my mind is done with inventing absurdities, and I wake up. In spite of the uncertainty surrounding Y2K, I can at least comfortably say that my dream does not foretell the future. Nelson in January is snowed under; no one will be running through the streets. Helen lives in Australia. I will be ensconced in Virginia. The aliens will all be interred in refugee camps. And of course the Air Force will be busy elsewhere, in Kosovo.
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