Goodbye to olestra and Lady Di

By Stephanie

What I won’t miss from 96:
ù Fat-free but calorie-laden and cardboard-tasting cookies and desserts, and body-bloating, vitamin-sucking fat substitutes like Olestra in potato chips. Give me old-fashioned cholesterol; give me butter, steak, cheesecake.
ù The raucous tenure debate at the University. No, I don’t think the debate making it in the Washington Post is an honor.
ù Lengthy, leaked-to-the-press-searches for a new president — newly elected President Mark Yudof looks good to me.
ù Whiny royalty who ought to shut up and count their blessings (such as oodles of money). Do we care if Prince Charles was ever really in love with Diana?
ù Over-exposed celebrities. Kathy Lee Gifford’s attempts to reform sweat shops are laudable, but I could do without her excessive self-revelations. She’s plastered on so many magazine covers she could wall paper the entire White House with them.
ù Artsy but boring movies that no one dares to criticize for fear of appearing unintellectual. Although Gwen Paltrow’s acting was fine in “Emma,” the movie still didn’t thrill me. The central romance had to build up, and I don’t believe for a minute that even the English in that era were always so stiff and stuffy. “The English Patient” was also incredibly boring; I left half-way through. The plot was unexplained, the characters were vapid. “Intellectual” doesn’t always equal “good.”
ù Over-priced celebrity perfumes. Goodness, does everybody have to get on the bandwagon? Don’t they make enough money? Unfortunately, it’s too late for Tiny Tim to come up with a $100 bottle of Fragrance of Tulips.
ù Dennis Rodman’s hair, Michael Jackson’s crotch-grabbing, the artist formerly known as Prince (May he become the formerly seen and referred-to), stupid sales clerks, lying congressmen/women, 50 degrees-below-zero freezing weather and a University that won’t close. Any more tips on living from Martha Stewart. Sensationalism in the media.
ù Any more books on the O.J. Simpson trials, and talking heads on CNN belaboring the same.
What you will hear in the new year:
ù Since much of the American public is stupid enough to believe that he is an heir to the Dole pineapple fortune anyway, Bob Dole will buy out half of the company and his photo will be featured on cans of Dole pineapples.
ù Sara Ferguson won’t make as much money as she hoped on her recent autobiography, so she will write a new book, “The Art of Toe Sucking,” which will take off and become a best seller.
ù There will be chaos at the White House as Socks Clinton is kitten-napped. A note is left identifying the culprit as one of Harold Ickes’s staff. After a tearful, nationwide appeal on TV for his return by Chelsea Clinton, however, he mysteriously turns up in a little used second floor office.
ù Michael Jackson’s new marriage will end before year’s end. (Big surprise, huh?) But he will lose custody of the baby when it is discovered that the baby and his chimp share the same crib.
ù Elizabeth Taylor will marry Prince Albert of Monaco.
ù Despite more media scrutiny and criticism, Andy Rooney will not shave his eyebrows.
ù Richard Simmons will eat too many apple dumplings and gain weight. Shamefaced, he will have to take a year off in order to loose it.
ù Elizabeth Dole will write her own best seller, “It takes a Village Idiot,” on the lunacy of liberalism and our expectations of government taking care of us. She will never again be known as “Sugar Lips.”
ù Aliens will not attack the White House — like the job of University president. Who in their right mind would want it?
Stephanie Sarich is a staff member of Boynton Health Service.