Just a year ago, we were all asking ourselves: What planet are they from, and how many moons does it have? This year it's a different question: How did they all manage to fall off the edge of the Earth at the same time?
The sudden, unexplained disappearance of Cincinnati City Council members during 1996 was like having your toes go numb in the cold: At first it's welcome, but upon reflection, it makes you wonder what they are doing down there. You are eventually forced to speculate on the pain and danger of waking them up.
So here's the first of my predictions for 1997: City Council will continue to be the gratefully forgotten Pierre Salinger of local politics, intruding sporadically, just long enough to remind everyone of its irrelevance by hosting Oprah therapy sessions on same-sex marriage or investigating the alleged CIA plot to peddle crack in Los Angeles.
The shift to a regional government has already occurred, Cincinnati style, by quietly transferring far more power to far fewer hands: Three Hamilton County Commissioners.
It happened while some city council members were busy trying to tie the county's shoelaces together in the middle of the stadium-tax campaign. As soon as voters figured out that city council couldn't or wouldn't do anything to keep the Reds and the Bengals in town, local maps were revised to indicate that City Hall is now ''The Former Site of Something Important.''
Some other predictions:
January: County commissioners decide to put both new stadiums on the riverfront. Broadway Commons crusader Jim Tarbell padlocks himself to the rear bumper of Marge Schott's Buick. She drags him to the riverfront, too, but city council members step in to offer a consolation prize to Over-the-Rhine: they make it legal to feed parking meters there, between 2 a.m. and 4 a.m.
February: Ohio Supreme Court justices rule that the state's school funding formula is inadequate, inequitable, toxic, flammable and a possible carcinogen. To provide the same high-quality education, rural districts are allowed to rob money from the wealthiest districts that have the highest per-pupil spending - such as Cincinnati Public Schools.
City Council members respond with a Charter amendment to outlaw the Ohio Supreme Court.
March madness: University of Cincinnati students chant obscene taunts at Dick Vitale on national television as basketball coach Bob Huggins protests a traveling call by chasing referees with a chain saw. UC President Joseph Steger says he has finally had enough crude temper tantrums by Mr. Huggins.
Trustees agree. They fire Mr. Steger, and give Mr. Huggins another long-term contract bonus as Emperor/Coach.
City council responds by passing a five-day waiting period for the purchase of chain saws.
April: The owner of the Reds continues a local Opening Day tradition by saying something obnoxious to someone.
May: Desperate to generate attention for sagging campaigns, council members propose a local cable TV version of CNN (Council News Network - ''All Us, All the Time''). It is rejected by voters, 348,000 to nine.
June and July: Sheriff Si Leis blocks the opening of a new Larry Flynt Museum and Casino on Broadway Commons. The sheriff wins, keeping downtown clean, but is harshly scorned for giving Cincinnati the reputation of an evolutionary cul de sac that is not sophisticated enough to tolerate pornography, drugs, crime and prostitution.
August: During dramatic testimony in the Paula Jones sexual harassment trial, President Clinton peels off one of those Mission Impossible masks and reveals that he is - Mikhail Gorbachev. Although this renders his entire presidency constitutionally void where prohibited, attempts by Republicans to remove him from office are derailed when Democrats wrestle Newt Gingrich to the floor of the House and peel off his mask, revealing - Rush Limbaugh.
September, October: Council members run for re-election. Cincinnati yawns.
November: A campaign to boost wintertime tourism in Cincinnati claims ''a dramatic increase in visits'' - until the entire ''dramatic increase'' finds a new fan-belt, climbs back into his car and continues to Disney World.
December: I write another annoying year-end column of predictions that are wrong, wrong and wrong again. City council responds with a resolution outlawing New Year's predictions on Fountain Square.
Peter Bronson is editorial page editor of The Enquirer. If you have questions or comments, call 768-8301, or write to 312 Elm Street, Cincinnati, Ohio 45202.
