The year of that woman.

It wasn't until November of 1992 that someone got around to telling us it was "The Year of the Woman." Ten months of hoopla wasted. No one would say who the woman was. Speculation raged that it was Anita Hill, Thelma or perhaps Louise, maybe Jane Doe.

To avoid wasting any more time this year, I hereby proclaim 1998 "The Year of That Woman." Read the brief nominations below and select that special woman.

Aretha Franklin--Forty-five minutes into the Grammy Awards, Luciano Pavarotti sent word from his hotel that he was unable to sing as scheduled. He was worried about the Soy Bomber. When producers rushed up to Aretha the Queen of All That Is Good and asked her to do it, she did not hesitate. She tore through her soul tune and, after a short commercial break, ripped through Pavarotti's abandoned aria. Can you spell "respect"?

Donna Shalala--Head of Health and Human Services, she is one of the most loyal members of Clinton's Cabinet. Shortly after the recent Clinton sex scandal broke (well, not so much broke, as revealed itself further), Shalala appeared resplendent in an ad for National Milk Producers with a telltale white mustache, practically taunting Ken Starr to subpoena her.

Calista Flockhart--(no relation to June) aka Ally McBeal. The kind of woman you can't decide whether to give a chaste "kiss on the forehead in a comforting, nonsexual manner" or hate with a blind, murderous irrationality. I choose door number two.

Celine Dion--Canadian singer and lovechild of an unnamed Canadian quint, she creeps me out, an opinion that given her Titanic success makes me as lonely as the last chicken in Hong Kong.

Ellen DeGeneres--After suffering poor ratings despite being about something and even though she is just as funny as Jerry "and that's OK" Seinfeld, Ellen's show is in danger of being replaced by two guys, a girl, and a pizza parlor. We don't want to miss the zany hijinx planned for next season, especially the "Did someone say Cochlea?" episode, in which Ellen goes in for a routine adenoid operation and is instead set upon by a rightwing Ear, Nose, and Throat Specialist from her HOMO.

The New Spice Girls--Starring Kathleen Spice, Gennifer Spice, Paula Corbin Spice, and Monica Spice. (Tip: Don't waste your vote on Monica. She's going to star in Grease.)

Oprah Winfrey--She showed she would not be cowed. Her case proved two things: No guy likes a gal to talk bad about his meat, and in Texas ground beef has more right to due process than Karla Faye Tucker.

MFO #XVII--Missing Feminist Observer. After mistakenly thinking William Safire actually wanted to know, and after foolishly responding to his question, "Where are the feminists now?" then getting hammered for her answer, MFO will be called on for her opinion in another thirty years.

Jodie Foster or Sandra Bernhardt--Despite constant impolite inquiries about the fathers of their children (see "The Smoking Schlong" file), there have been no leaks. That puts them ahead of Ken Starr's team.

Linda Tripp--Vernon Jordan did not help her get a cush job with Revlon, despite the pioneering work she has done for affordable makeovers. In previously secret tapes, Tripp reveals: "I am not in this to bring down the government of that impossible hick from Little Rock. No, I am appalled at the high cost of makeup. And if, by talking to me--formerly a large transvestite in a trench coat, now a styling dame from a planned community north of D.C.--any woman can get a new face, then I feel I have done my job."

Don't delay! Select today. But please, only one per household.