I grew up hearing the years between 1900 and 1909 called “the aughts,” as in “nineteen-aught-four.” Somehow I doubt that’s what people called them at the time. I bet the people who lived those years had many different names for them, just as we do today for the years between 2000 and 2009. Some call them the aughts, some the zeros (“two-zero-zero-three”), some the ohs (“two double-oh nine” or “twenty-oh nine”), some the thousands (“two thousand-five”). We probably won’t settle on a name until 2032 or so, but for now I’m going with the aughts.
For sure, this decade bears the indelible stamp of George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, and the neo-cons. Given that they ran things into the ground for eight of these ten years . . . bankrupting the nation, pissing away the good will other countries felt toward the USA, destroying our reputation as a moral force for international good, giving the rich and powerful carte blanche to dismantle the regulated capitalist system that built this vibrant society so that they could keep more of everything for themselves . . . many would call these the Null Years or the Dark Ages, and describe this as a “good riddance” decade or at least a throwaway one.
Now that I’ve chased away all my right-wing readers, I’ll say that the aughts have been good years for Donna and me, by no means a throwaway decade. Here are some highlights:
We spent the entire ten years in one place: same town, same house. Don’t scoff! I grew up in a military family and then was a military man myself. Donna grew up in a gypsy household, and then married me. Until this decade, neither of us had ever spent more than three years in one location.
When the decade began I was three years into a post-military-retirement career as a defense contractor, training USAF fighter pilots. Halfway through the decade I abandoned the career and became a bus driver: RVs, school buses, handicapped vans. Toward the end of the decade I retired for a second, and I hope final, time.
Donna started a home embroidery business, and though it hasn’t made her rich it’s still a going concern.
In 2000, I had been running the Half-Mind Catalog for five years. In 2002 I began phasing out of active editorship, turning it over to other hashers; in 2005, knowing that it was in capable hands, I left the HMC entirely. My internet freedom didn’t last long: almost immediately I bought a new domain and began blogging. I became a minister and founded a church.
The aughts were our second full decade of hashing (we started in 1988). We began with an InterHash in Tasmania and ended with an InterAmericas in Colorado. In between I founded two hashes, the Pima County Traditional H3 and the Pima Independent Sunday Social H3. Although I started the Harriers Motorcycle Club the decade before (in 1998), it wasn’t until this decade (just a few months ago, in fact), that I started trying to turn it into a hash.
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What else? Our son married and made us grandparents. When our daughter moved out, we became, for the first time in our lives, empty nesters. That was too sad to bear, so we got a dog.
My father died; also an uncle and an aunt. Donna lost her father, her step-father, two aunts and an uncle. We started to lose friends.
We began the decade with Skipper, a cherry-head conure, Petey, an African grey, and Buckwheat, a blue & gold macaw. We ended it free of birds. Free at last, free at last (people, don’t keep caged birds . . . just don’t . . . it’s wrong, not to mention a huge PITA).
In 2001 I got out in front of a nationwide trend: middle-aged men finally realizing that Harleys are not the Fountain of Youth. I traded my Electra Glide in on a Goldwing. Nearly ten years later, I’m still way out ahead of the movement. Or maybe I’m the only one. All depends on how you look at it.
We quit running in favor of walking, and partially made up for that by taking up bicycling.
We completed our fourth decade of marriage. We stayed healthy. I quit drinking.
I put my first presidential election bumper sticker ever on the back of my car. My guy won, so the decade is ending on a hopeful note.
The aughts had their troublesome side; for us it was the drop in value of our home and the decimation of our 401K. But hey, it’s only money, and who am I to begrudge some Goldman-Sachs employee his second Bentley?
Happy New Year, everyone, and best wishes for the teens.