Well, 2007 is now behind us, and it's time to let go of the old year and embrace the possibilities of 2008. With so much news ahead of us, I thought I'd save time and, for the second year running, let you know what I predict the headlines are going to be next year. (In case you don't catch the satire, this is just a joke…)
Impressed by the successful implementation of the Cascadian-inspired 'Sandy Style' design palette for new construction, the city of Sandy decides it's time to create guidelines for a variety of other areas in the city.
'Sandy Style has changed our town,' says City Manager Scott Lazenby. 'Everything around us looks like it belongs in the mountains. Now we need to complete this theme by applying these concepts to every area of Sandy life.'
By unanimous vote, the Sandy City Council passes the 'Sandy Style Omnibus' ordinance, which sets precise guidelines for clothing, automobiles and pets, among other things.
The provisions require citizens to wear 'mountain man'-type apparel. Plaid is strongly encouraged, and some form of animal pelt is required.
Vehicles may either resemble a covered wagon - to fit with the pioneer history of Sandy - or a wooden mountain wagon.
There are only two types of acceptable pets in the city: a dog (preferably a hunting dog) and a bear. Families with bears get tax breaks.
'What good is a Cascadian theme if everyone else looks like they belong in Portland?' Mayor Linda Malone asks.
The population of Sandy will blow past the 10,000-citizen mark in 2008 - a more than 32-percent increase - shocking city officials. If that's not bad enough for city services, most of the new residents will come from drought-ravaged Georgia, and they will be very thirsty.
By Thanksgiving, the city will completely run out of water, and residents are forced to bathe in either the Sandy River, the Meinig Park parking lot after a good rain or the Olin Y. Bignall pool. A deal with the Portland Water Bureau falls through, since that agreement was contingent upon Portland being 'Sandy's boss' forever. The city's economy tanks as residents are forced to get their drinking water from Starbucks for $4 a bottle.
Residents of the unincorporated community of Boring, realizing they have more characteristics of a city than neighboring Damascus, successfully persuade Gov. Ted Kulongoski to strip Damascus of its city status and to instead make Boring a city.
'We provide everything to them,' says Boring Mayor Les Otto. 'Who has the fire house? We do. Who has the post office? We do. Who has the Safeway? They do, but we have the Grange. You don't see anything named 'Damascus-Boring,' do you? It's all Boring-Damascus!'
Before Damascus citizens can complain about the unconstitutional reversal of their 2004 incorporation, Boring responds by annexing the community as its first order of business.
The city of Boring has no aspirations to create an 80,000-plus-population city; instead, it has preliminary plans for 40 new nursery farms and 'AgriWorld,' a farm theme park.
In a last-ditch effort to keep Roslyn Lake from being drained, the Concerned Friends of Roslyn successfully petition federal leaders to keep the lake open. Before the friends can celebrate the victory and continue enjoying the famed recreation area, PGE decides to sell the property to an eccentric Idaho businessman who turns the lake into his own private, giant bowl of mashed potatoes.
The body of 'water,' renamed Russet Lake, becomes responsible for the obesity and subsequent deaths of thousands of area birds.
Mayor Linda Malone jokingly submits an application to the International Olympics Committee for Sandy to host the 2016 summer games and is shocked when she learns that the committee has picked the mountain burg. Preparations begin; plans are drawn up for a grand stadium at Highway 26 and 362nd Avenue. Businesses sprout up all over town. International dignitaries come and go. Millions pour into the city from private investors wanting to get a piece of the action. The city's livability and charm is known the world over, finally putting Mount Hood and Portland in its shadow.
Unfortunately, it all goes kaput a week before opening ceremonies when the IOC realizes that Sandy has only one hotel.