Let’s pause here to give the pessimists and skeptics a chance to speak. "What in the hell," I hear you say, "is a party going to accomplish?" My friend, don’t ignore the power of fun. It shouldn’t surprise you to learn that Cloud’s motto is SWORN TO FUN!

According to Cloud, fun is:

It might be helpful also to think of the word "fun" as an acronym. For instance, Families Uniting Neighborhoods…or Friendship Uniting Nations.

Still, I imagine your skepticism, because I had a bit of it swirling around inside me, too. Our errands completed, Cloud found a restaurant and we spent some time exploring her idea in greater detail. After ordering our food, I asked her how the simple act of coming together was really going to accomplish anything.

"Remember the bombing in Oklahoma City?" she asked me. "Do you remember the spirit of cooperation that existed then, how everyone came together to help? People came from all over the country, from all over the world, to help us out." This example was particularly powerful for me, because I remember being astounded at how willing everyone was to put aside their differences and work together for the sake of the victims of that unfortunate event.

She went on. "When we come together, in any form or fashion, to sit in a circle and drum, or chant, or hold hands, or any one of the simple things that indigenous peoples do, whatever big, huge problems that might have concerned individuals in the circle suddenly become very small problems. Now you’re part of something; you’re no longer alone and isolated. What seemed inconceivable to you, impossible, is now very possible. The larger composite of that energy coming together, that synergy, is the very thing that will elevate this planet and literally move it in space…lighten our vibration." Sounds a bit odd, perhaps…until you’ve been in a drum circle or some other powerful ceremony; then you know.

The power of focused thought and intention (or, if you prefer, prayer) seems to work wonders. People seem ready to acknowledge this power available to them, and even the mainstream television networks are starting to explore spiritual matters with shows like Touched by an Angel. Even small groups of people, channeling energy and intention together toward a vision, can work miracles.

Now imagine an event of true planetary dimensions, choreographed from one central location like The Ranch. At the top of each hour people of the world meet, greet and play together both locally, and via commercial satellite. In Cloud’s vision, the first 5 minutes of each hour is devoted to simultaneous global play, linked up on split screens from, say, twelve locations. The remaining fifty-five minutes of each hour’s programming might provide good news and fun events from around the world.

During the course of my martial arts training I learned to capitalize on momentum (that is, the movement or intention an opponent has) and use it to my advantage. This concept works equally well in cooperative ventures. When you consider the fact that people are already planning New Year’s celebrations for December 31, 1999, you understand the opportunity that exists to bring everyone’s energy together for common good. This is a chance to start the millenium off right.

Despite arguments over when the millenium really begins--January 1, 2000 or 2001--you have to remember where the focus is going to be. According to Cloud: "The natural energy available to us is the year 2000. We’re coming into a whole new millenium and if you don’t believe it, ask computers what they’re going to do with those three zeros. There are people who would like to argue about whether the turn of the millenium is the year 2000 or 2001. But energy is the name of the game, and where the energy is moving there’s action, and where there’s action, we have change…and the attention, the focus, will be on midnight, December 31, 1999.

"Into that space we have an opportunity to focus global attention toward celebration. The strongest energy there is, the most attractive energy there is, is genuine, deep, heartfelt appreciation. To be truly grateful, to demonstrate that gratitude and link it up by satellite and computer and all the other technology that will be available to us then is an astounding opportunity.

"The energy of an entire planet focusing together…that’s when change happens!"

She paused to take a bite from her sandwich. "John," she said, "it’s a party for the children. It’s a coming together of the human family…a celebration they’ll always remember." Setting aside people’s religious, economic, and class differences, the one thing we can all agree on is that it would be good to create a better world for our children. After all, they’re the ones who’ll be left after we make our mark.

We left the restaurant and found a coffeehouse. Over cappuccino Cloud reminded me of the good energy I witnessed in the days following the Oklahoma City bombing. "We’ve forgotten that we’re one family. The healing comes about when we come together. We already know we can come together if there’s a bombing at a Federal Building…that makes us come together real fast. We forget all about our color, our religion, our sexual preferences. Well, we want to prove that we can also come together in celebration! We’re coming together for the joy of humanity and for our children."

The logistics of something like this are naturally quite overwhelming, but Cloud isn’t trying to organize it by herself. Instead, she’s like a roving ambassador for the celebration, and reported to me that numerous large corporations are already committing resources toward the Big World Party. Shortly before finishing one of our photo sessions, Cloud told me she was going to participate in a conference call later that night with people who are very experienced in putting huge events together. In fact, every time I call Cloud, she tells me, "John, can you call back in a few minutes? I’m on long distance…" The lady stays busy.

Some of the companies and organizations committing resources to the Big World Party are waiting to go public. Let’s just say this thing will make Woodstock, Hands Across America, and Live Aid look like a backyard barbecue in comparison.

The enthusiasm for this event is infectious; when people hear about it, they want to be involved. Whatever the magnitude of the task, it’s always viewed more as fun than work, and Cloud knows how to keep it that way. But despite the help of large corporate entities, this celebration won’t really be what it can be without you. "We can spend from this moment on planning what we’re each going to do individually for the Big World Party," Cloud says. "These events can be placed on a menu well in advance of the actual Party; then each school, each business, each civic group, or whoever, can plan how they’d like to participate in whichever activity appeals most to them.

"There are three parts to any activity: planning for it, having it, and experiencing the effects of it. One of the most fabulous aspects of this celebration is the planning of it; imagine how much fun this is! Imagine churches and schools and businesses, all of them looking forward to that special time."

What can we do, then? We can tell our friends and family. We can spread the word to those in our church or spiritual groups. We can get on the Net, e-mail people, write letters. Those of us with friends in high places can enlist their aid, in much the same way that Cloud has interested screen stars, corporations, and the elders of indigenous peoples in helping with the Big World Party.

Some of the suggested Simultaneous Events of the Big World Party might be: Sounding of the Trumpets, Making Prayers, Holding Hands, Beating the Drums, Honoring the Creator (and the Children, the Elders, our Pets, and the Earth), and saying "Thank You" in the many languages we humans speak.

I visited with Cloud a number of times this year, learning as much as I could about her plans for the Big World Party. Driving back and forth to Stillwater for interviews, photo sessions or just to visit with my new friend, I became caught up in the idea of this celebration. One evening--after what had been a very, very long day--I fell into a deep sleep and had a powerful dream…

Steve is still in bed, the covers pulled up over him. The room is dark, and as he looks out the window he can see snow blowing almost sideways in the streetlight beam. The wind howls, the window rattles, and Steve pulls the covers to his chin. He glances at the clock. Way too early to be up--usually, that is--but this is a special occasion and he knows he’ll be awake for at least 24 hours anyway, so it doesn’t really make much difference. Amy hurries in from the kitchen, carrying a couple of cups of hot coffee. "Is it on yet?" she asks, climbing into bed beside him. "It’s just about to start, I think…" He points the remote at the television and it jumps to life, bathing the dark bedroom in a phosphor glow. Steve finds the channel he’s looking for, hits the volume button, and takes a deep breath. He reaches for Amy’s hand. She looks at him, her eyes wide. Regular programming has ceased…

The sky is gloomy this time of year, but not gloomy enough to dampen young spirits. In this classroom desks are pushed against the walls, leaving space in the middle of the floor. There, everyone sits in a semi-circle around the television, fidgeting nervously. It’s about to start. The children have their snacks and beverages in their laps, and there’s ceaseless chattering. The kids are restless. "All right, you lot," Mrs. Tamm announces. "It’s time to turn the telly on. Please listen and have your horns ready; after the first segment we’ll talk about what we saw."

What must it be like for them, she wonders, eight years old and seeing this? She realizes that she, like her students, is grinning excitedly. Everyone’s jittery, and the air is electric…

Mr. Mangosuthu walks slowly, the weight of the years bearing heavy on him now. It is summer here, early afternoon, and hot. The dust rises in tiny clouds around his bare feet; on either side is a grandson, ready to steady him if need be. At the community center a place has been reserved for him, up front near the television set. He is somewhat hard of hearing so the volume is turned up, so loud that the tiny speaker rattles noticeably. Even Mr. Mangosuthu hears it as he reaches the doorway of the modest cinderblock building. Drumming…powerful drumming. Not unlike the sounds he’s heard these past seventy-odd years, but different, too. Twenty feet away, the sound booms from the tiny television. Mr. Mangosuthu realizes the drumming is actually taking place many, many thousands of miles away, and it is night there. The people on television look different from those of his tribe, but the old man feels strangely connected to them somehow. He looks at his grandsons as they help him to his chair, and a thought comes. Pointing his cane at the men on the television screen he says, "Those people and us! We are the same! Do you understand? The same! We are the same…"

Here is where it begins, the Prime Minister reminds himself for perhaps the hundredth time. He is so excited he can barely contain himself. It’s simply astounding, really! Accustomed to speaking before large crowds in person, before hundreds of thousands on television, still he is unprepared for something of this magnitude. He glances at his watch: Almost midnight. Behind him, Maori men in traditional costume have been dancing and drumming as a prelude of what is to come. In front of him, a sprawling mass of hundreds of thousands of people has gathered, though in the darkness he can only see a small percentage of them. The glare of the television lights in his eyes is strong, and the towers on which the lights and cameras are positioned jut into the air around the gigantic stage. And now, the nervous stage director catches the Prime Minister’s eye. The countdown: Five. Four. Three. Two. One. The director points at him sharply, the camera’s red light comes on, and behind him, the drumming ceases. The dancers stop and the Prime Minister smiles, forgetting for just a moment that 3 or 4 billion people are watching him now. It’s show time…

It’s a small group gathered here on the mountain; maybe 25 men, women and children. The sky is clear and millions of stars twinkle overhead. There is a fire burning in a circle, and as the warm, gentle breeze carries the embers to the heavens, someone turns up the volume on the portable TV. Here on the mountaintop it is 1 AM…

...but in New Zealand, on the other side of the International Date Line, the clock has just struck midnight. "Welcome, friends around the world," the Prime Minister says. "Welcome to the family of man! Welcome to a new day...a new year, a new century, and--" He pauses as the Maoris and the whites, the Orientals and the blacks who have gathered here to greet this moment hold their collective breath. "--the new millenium!" The drums explode with pounding rhythm, and everyone begins blowing horns, conch shells, didgereedoos.

And just like that, it is January 1, 2000.

In Chicago, Steve and Amy hear thousands of horns blowing simultaneously outside and in adjacent apartments.

In Nottingham, the children of Mrs. Tamm’s class cheer loudly, and blow tiny toy horns.

In Soweto, amidst the sound of trumpets and the chanting of his people, Mr. Mangosuthu’s heart swells and he sheds a tear, glad that he lived long enough to witness this day.

And on the Hawaiian mountaintop, Scout Cloud Lee, medicine woman, simply smiles as she experiences The Moment. Her friends turn from the television to look at her, some with tears of joy in their eyes. Finally, in a clear voice she asks, "Anyone care to dance?" There’s a rousing cheer of approval, and the celebration is under way. Around the world, billions of people are cheering, chanting, laughing, dancing, and playing whatever wind instruments they have at hand. The miles mean nothing now, and everyone experiences Togetherness.

A global family reunion, then! It is for the children…those children already here, and those yet unborn.

It is Fun with Purpose, perhaps the highest of all visions.

It is Cloud’s vision.