6:13 p.m. Amazing but true! We've made it this far. Unlike the poor lady from Pennsylvania who was 119 and who wanted to see three centuries but who died a couple of days ago -- we're all still alive on this beautiful, beautiful planet.

Here are some shots of the very last sunset of an era. The last time the sun will ever shine on ... what? A bunch of numbers in our head? The sun is unaware of our thoughts. Nonetheless, it did peek out from a bank of storm clouds before it set, so we could officially say goodby.

Last night I watched a few hours of the beginning of the world-wide celebrations on the island of Tonga and the even tinier, newly named Millennium Island. Thank God for the Canadian Broadcasting network -- they aimed the cameras and kept quiet so that we could see and hear the songs and music of another people without chirpy voiceovers.

And what a rousing bunch of celebrations I witnessed! People dressed entirely in wicker were putting out to sea in canoes and handing off burning torches from the eldest to the youngest members of the group. Ladies in wicker bras danced on the shore.

On the island of Chatham, in New Zealand, a small group of neighbors gathered for a little bonfire in what looked to be a largish garbage bin, albeit covered in decorative slats. Children sang, local politicians read proclamations, and yes, a large group of Tonga Islanders did sing a few bars of the Messiah.

The rare and beautiful part of the ceremonies, at least before the more populated areas began to rev up, was that there was no commercial gain anywhere to be seen. No Diana Ross being hoisted on a platform while a thousand members of the muscled Pepsi generation swirled and circled, trailing multicolored mylar streamers.

Just a little bonfire, a little music, with a guitar.

Other than a few nuclear glitches in Japan, all seems quiet and orderly as the numbers turn. It really looks as if we're going to wake up to a regular day tomorrow.

I've had no desire to fill my 52-plus jugs of water. Yet. But the night is still young, and the champagne is chilling, so there's no telling what's yet to come.

I will reserve this space and pop back on line every now and then to make sure that nothing big and untoward has befallen our little planet between sunsets. For the all-important public record, you know. This web experiment is our very own version of the Dead Sea scrolls, and we must try to be accurate.

After the sun set, I'm happy to report that I was able to purchase my office wall calendar -- and not a minute too soon. I'll probably make it the subject of tomorrow's little entry. I'm very superstitious about such things, and I am shocked that I waited so long -- but luck is with me this year, so far.

I hope luck and good grace will be with you, too. I hope you dream some big dreams for this grand new future of ours that we all share tonight. I hope some of them come true for you.