Headline: The Revolution Will Not Be Webcast

For Sale: generator, camping equipment, specially customized Chevy Nova (think "Road Warrior"), 500 gallon underground gas tank and gas, trunk-load of nasty canned and dehydrated food, composting toilet, pepper spray, cases of cigarettes, gold coins, milk cow, and hardback copy of "Raccoons to Deer: Suburban Survival Hunting Skills for Beginners." Turns out the prophets of doom were looking for the profits of doom. Call any time; the phones still work.

Okay, it's over, it wasn't so bad. Time to relax. Breathe. Exhale the old century, inhale the new. No more blaming your test scores on pre-apocalyptic stress. Your worst fantasies did not come true. You can stop wondering if those weird neighbors of yours would have been among the first to consider cannibalism.

You can stop watching for Jesus' return. If he's here, he's lying low again. If he appeared in New York, he's probably locked up in Bellevue by now. Maybe he landed in the Midwest, but in the Midwest you don't boast. Perhaps Jerusalem, where he's too shocked to speak up.

Things will be better now. For instance, we're no longer hearing the word "millennium" twenty times a day. Likewise the term "Y2K," which will become mental institution slang for extreme paranoia: "The guy was totally Y2K, it took 50 cc's just to get him on the gurney." Best of all, television ads have stopped shouting, "Don't miss the last sale of the century!"

We've finally gotten some relief from the billions of public and private predictions, guesses, assumptions, and grand-parental diatribes beginning with "mark my words" that sought to foresee the results of a 4-digit year change.

We can also happily kiss off that tremendous flood of "best of" lists and contests. Best song of the year, the decade, the century, etceteras. Biggest hurricane. Most influential farmer. Highest grossing art form. Grossest high art form (elephant dung?).

The last couple decades seem to have been poor growing conditions for the American revolutionary spirit. Making things better for fellow humans has fallen terribly out of fashion. Many feel that hallmark efforts like race relations and the environment seem to be headed in the right direction, the economy is doing well, and terms like "oppressed" seem so overwrought. To top it off, the popularity of the folk guitar has plummeted dramatically. So why bother?

Have our fellow citizens grown complacent as a society? Are they sufficiently distracted by their personal lives as to ignore larger public issues? Do they feel apathetic and powerless? Have they put their faith in politics, business, and people who actually bother to vote?

Not everyone. Many people, of different motives, were saving their energy for the past few years, looking at the Y2K event as a potential opportunity. There was always the chance that computers or whackos might instigate some major upheaval of society that could be exploited. The easiest time to change the world is when it's in disarray and in need of some structure. You just need to step in at the right time, with a plausible plan and some charisma, and they'll follow you like ducklings. Worked for Hitler.

Even without such major upheaval, the year 2000 is a natural opportunity, even motivator, to strive for a positive future. Big round numbers do have an impact on people, even those who insist there's no inherent importance to the turn of the year to 2000. Simply put: Before 2000, it was the end of a clearly defined time period, and after 2000 it is the beginning of one. It feels more natural to change things when you're in a period of transition. For example, when you move to a new place and you think that this time you're going to start out neat and organized and stay that way.

2000 is the wake up call to the repressed revolutionary urges in Americans. Watch for the spirit to rise in people all around you. It'll be subtle. At first.

Individually speaking, the revolutionary spirit will probably start slowly because it takes a while for people to decide what their thing is. The menu of causes is long and can be overwhelming unless one can learn to focus. Local favorites include the homeless, nationalist aggression, alternative transportation, reproductive rights, various environmental causes, and of course land and commercial development. It doesn't stop there though. Santa Cruz is a Noah's Ark of activists (no, it's not all massage therapists and realtors); there are at least two people representing every view and special interest imaginable, and at least one of them will take pains to make themselves heard. The city council, and the city at large is generally tolerant of unconventional viewpoints, colorful proponents, and utopian dreams. Nobody alive can remember the last stoning. You can check out the Peace and Justice Calendar at <http://www.cruzio.com/~christic/gen.htm> for a glimpse of what's going on lately.

This is not to say that everyone in Santa Cruz is politically active… indeed, the voting record here is little better than anywhere else, if that's any indication. But intensity of local politics doesn't indicate density of local involvement, any more than bright paint indicates a well-built house. One should be careful not to feel that others are already doing the important work.

Choosing a cause can also be fraught with the pitfalls of identity. For instance, some men might be drawn to the battleground of modern feminism, but it'll be tough to convince anyone that they're not just out to meet girls. Similarly, the motives of dredlocked and stoned white boys from Long Beach may be somewhat in question as they argue passionately for the U.S. legalization of industrial hemp, particularly when their knowledge and experience in agriculture and industry is gathered primarily from bumper stickers.

But even someone setting a cause back a few years is credited with trying, with having a dream larger than themselves. Everyone starts somewhere. Most people have fun stories about early memories of their involvement in organized resistance, and tell them with a nostalgic smile. A few overheard in a coffee shop:

"My sisters and I sort of banded together against our bedtimes. It was a total revolt. We demanded our rights of our parents, and were granted a later bedtime of 9:30. It was years before we could actually stay awake that long."

"I hated eating fish so much, it was always this big ordeal at the table. They made me put the fish in my mouth, and told me I'd sit at the table until I swallowed. I wasn't willing to swallow it, but I was willing to hold it in my mouth for an hour and a half before they caved in. They must have been so disgusted the whole time."

"In first grade we hated our teacher so much we told the principal that she peed on his car. Like eight of us said that. I remember believing it was true, but now it's like, right. I'm sure she peed on his car."

Most people can remember a story like these, and remember the thrill of realizing the world as we know it is changing, and it can change because of them.

What do activists look like? Are they just the earnest looking, clipboard carrying, sign-this types with no sense of humor on Pacific Avenue? Are they the wild-eyed shirtless maniacs chaining themselves to lawn tractors at the golf course, trying to prevent massive applications of weed killers, chemicals expected to eventually leach into the bay and kill off three kinds of limpet? Or are they the ones who become a big brother or big sister to a kid who needs one and teach them how to swim? Maybe they're the ones who just got a Christmas card signed by two dozen residents of a retirement home, where they sometimes drop in to listen to stories and play some music. How about someone making a sign to put up on the elevator at work advertising her willingness to organize and drive a carpool?

The revolution will not be webcast. It will be comprised of individual activists doing one thing at a time, one day at a time. 2000 is a nice round number for a starting point- students of the future will be able to remember it on tests.