Imagine all the school zones

If you think this is funny, you're probably wasting your potential...

The day we almost Died

Did you know that you almost died in 1983?

In 1983, I was 11, and I was terrified by the news. I knew a little about politics, and I undrestood that there was a real possibility of the world exploding in a nuclear war.

Somehow this was worse than the normal fears of an 11 year old boy. It wasn't just the monster in the closet, or "stranger danger" or the devil. It wasn't personal. There was nothing I could do about it, and it would mean the end of everything. All because someone got an itchy trigger finger.

I understood this fear the way only a child can. Every moment of every day, every vapor trail in the sky, every flash of light at night, I prayed for the human race.

1983 was an especially scary time for me. Reagan was president, and he had already called the USSR the "Evil Empire." At the wise old age of 11, I knew better than that. Evil is a personal, metaphysical thing, not an appropriate way to describe one's geopolitical rival.

(yes I did talk like that when I was 11... and yes, I got beat up a lot.)

I had a pretty low opinion of Reagan, I thought he might have been a little senile, and I thought (as did the Soviet leadership) that he just might be stupid enough to do it.

Around Midnight on Monday, September 26, 1983, (Sunday afternoon in the US), Lt. Colonel Stanislav Petrov went to work on his day off.

Petrov was in command of the early warning system used by the USSR to detect a missile attack by the US. A few minutes into his shift, alarms began to sound, and the computers showed first one, then five missiles flying to the USSR from the US.

Petrov had no information except the saltellites telling him an attack was happening. Alarms, lights, and training all worked against the survival of humanity.

After five minutes of hand-wringing, Petrov called Moscow and said it was a false alarm. He had no reason to believe this was so, just "instinct." Then he waited another 10 minutes to see if he was right. Petrov later said, "I thought if the United states attacked, they would send more missiles."

Smart.

Thank you, Stanislav.

Rose of Mohammed

I have been wondering since our guest columnist brought it up, what are they having for breakfast? I mean the guy who makes danishes is probably not Danish, he's probably a good Muslim, and may have had his shop smashed up and his pastries stomped on. What will become of him? In Iran at least, he's represented by the confectioners union:

"Given the insults by Danish newspapers against the prophet, as of now the name of Danish pastries will give way to 'Rose of Mohammed' pastries," the union said in its order.

And I'm sure the Danes care. I mean, the boycott, the burning embassies, the police "losing control" of the crowds, the murders, those were understandable, but renaming the Danish? I'm sure Danes everywhere are weeping this evening.

Ever notice how its always the same people? I remember living in Albuquerque when the whole "Freedom Fries" business happened. The neighborhood I lived in was a very conservative outpost in albuquerque's east side. This was a neighborhood where a friend of mine had her apartment window broken because she had displayed an anti-war poster in it.

There was one restaraunt, a burger joint with extra grease that I used to visit right by my house, and they were the only place I ever saw that changed the name of their french fries to freedom fries.

They tasted the same.

And there were no french people (and only one Democrat) eating there anyway.

Its these same gomers, everywhere you go, they have to hate everyone who isn't "American" or "Muslim" or "Tutsi" or "Serbian."

The rest of us really need to stand up to them, and order french fries and a danish.