h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

oh yeah,
9-11.
I'm located some 20 minutes from the island of Manhattan, so there was no rolling black smoke or anything. We didn't even get off from school. In fact, except for reciting Psalms at the beginning of every class, nothing much was unusual--besides the ridiculous rumors about a helicopter hitting one of the Twin Towers, a small plane hitting the Empire State Building, jets crashing into *both* Twin Towers--which just shows how much rumors can blow up, because how can someone accidentally crash into one of those megaloths?-- jets crashing into the White House- no, the Pentagon, (what's that?)-- and then the rumor spread by Leo that the island of Manhattan was sinking, because it made about as much sense as anything else.
Oh, and the girls crying in the halls because their fathers were killed, and the burnt paper that rained on us for around a week after. And the trains running all wrong in lower Manhattan, and the National Guardsmen patrolling the city for months after, and the HOV rules on most of NYC. And the helicopters floodlighting everyone's backyard BBQs for a year or so after.

please.

And is Phred sneaking mozzerella turkey sticks over there?

Would someone mind heaving another log on the fire? If we pour in salt, will it burn blue?

Stunned silence.......


Here take them all. I never really liked mozzarella-garlic turkey thigh sausage anyway. I only liked the idea of of mozzarella-garlic turkey thigh sausage.

Thanks for sharing.

I was, thank heavens, far away from Ground Zero. A friend of mine, a young reporter for the local rag and a NYC native, was in absolute agony to be so far from home when it happened. My home town has never taken a hit like that, so I don't know how I'd feel. We've had damage from tornados - that sort of thing. But to be the target of terrorism is beyond my experience.

And we do have some Jews in the area, Leo. Not a large number, but even Hillbillies know you don't have horns.

*takes a swig of her merlot then tosses another log on the fire*

I suppose this is a good time to talk about growing up during the cold war. I'm here to tell you that you didn't have to live on the coast or in a large city to be scared shitless. They used to print lists of likely target sites for a nuclear attack. Our area was always 3rd or 4th on the list.

Stop scratching your head, Leo, I'm getting ready to explain. I am about 150 miles due south of Kansas City, near the Kansas state line. During the height of the cold war there were many, many missle silos along that line between here and KC. Hundreds, I've heard. I find that unlikely, but you never know. At any rate, there were enough nuclear warheads here to blow up the earth several times over.

Not only that but my tiny town of 500 people had an Air Force installation for several years. It was a tracking station. We called it Radar Hill. There's nothing left up there now, but I'll show it to the guys when they're here. It was built on top of a hill created from rubble when the mines were open. The gubment came in, flattened it out and brought in some trailers and other prefab-type buildings.

We had the duck and cover drills at school along with the demonstrations about using gas masks, how to seal up our houses against radiation leaks, phamplets telling us how much water and food to have stored away, evacuation drills, *bet Leo had plain old boring fire drills*, and of course we were all encouraged to build bomb shelters in our back yards.

I remember a surreal conversation around the supper table during the Cuban Missle Crisis. Should Dad go to work? Should I go to school? I was in 8th grade. Should Lady C go to school - she had to drive 30 miles to Pittsburg, Kansas where she was a senior at PSU. The thing was, we didn't want the family separated. Baby brother was not quite 2. He and Mom would be at home. I'd be in town, but at school. No problem. I could get home in 6 or 7 minutes if I ran. Dad would be in Joplin. Sis would be in Pittsburg. What if something happened and Dad or Sis couldn't get home? I don't think any of us slept for three days.

It's easy to think from our perspective 44 years later that it was no big deal - nothing happened. But we didn't know nothing would happen. There was a very real liklihood that it was going to hit the fan and there we were with one of the nation's main lines of defense in our back yard.

I don't generally become emotional when news stories pop up on tv. I can only remember it happening twice. I cried like a baby when the Berlin Wall came down, remembering all those years of wondering when it was going to happen - because as a kid I thought of it in terms of "when" not "if" - just in case Leo is wondering why so many members of my generation joined peace movements and dropped acid.

Every generation has their own problems, but mine was the first to grow up with the technology capable of wiping off all life on the planet. And to be blunt about it, it pissed us off.

*looks around the campfire to notice that everyone is sound asleep* Just as well. This way I don't have to share the wine.

We never had the duck & cover drills, or bomb shelters. The threat balance in Germany was pretty much at a stalemate. But if the balloon went up, there wouldn't be many options. The NEO (Non-combatant Evacuation Order) looked pretty on paper, but was predicated on the enemy not bombing ports, airports, highways, etc etc. Only the pessimists really thought about it, though.

It sounds to me like the Stateside paranoia-mongers were working OT.

When the Cuban Missile Crisis hit, everybody's Dad went on alert. Business as usual for everyone else.

Mrs. Phred tells me stories about being taken on dates to Miami country clubs by goys like me who didn't really believe that she would be denied admittance. Personally, I agree with Groucho Marx. I wouldn't join any club that would have me. (The possible exception is the Oakland, Califonia, 1968 chapter of the Hell's Angels motorcycle club).

She was assigned a dorm room with another person of her ethnic background, so that she would feel more "comfortable". Of course, we still had "white" and "colored" drinking fountains and rest rooms in all our public facilities in the early 60s, so a little discrimination of this type was right in line.

The horns and tails thing grew out of church teachings and paintings rendered in the middle ages. Sometimes beliefs about things like the blood libel are very slow to die and probably still live in Austria.

Young men in the military can also sometimes be cruel, sometimes from simple ignorant beliefs and sometimes from malicious feigned ignorance. This behavior is, of course, not exclusive to "hillbillies", a term which is itself a prejorative and derogatory, except possibly when used by another hillbilly.

My pet peeve during the cold war was loyalty oaths. Sign one for the 5th grade and another for the 6th, just in case..."I am not now, and never have been, a member of the following Communist front organizations.." (five page list follows).

Did anyone bring graham crackers and Hersey bars to go with the marshmellows? I have a taste in my mouth for Somemores.

...and please put on some more logs, it's getting very dark and scary out there.

The loyalty oaths were Joe McCarthy's brain-spawn, right?

What would happen if you didn't sign one, BTW?

(rummages in backpack....) Sorry, no chocolate or grahams. I still have that large jar of mayo, though.

This is waaay too much for a little girl to absorb while she's supposed to be laying out a newspaper.

Have some ; will rice cakes do instead of graham crackers?

I'll be back when layout is finished. Honest.

Dont finish the spit-roasted duck without me.

I don't remember having to sign loyalty oaths in school. That stinks.

There was one Jewish boy in my high school. His family owned a shoe store on main street. He was a grade or two behind me, so I wasn't very well acquainted with him. But I don't honestly remember hearing unkind remarks about him.

I didn't attend school with a black until college. When I was a sophomore at college we had a Japanese exchange student. He was the only oriental. No Hispanics. No Muslims. The closest thing to a minority in my area when I was a kid were the Catholics. It was WASP country. Now Webb City has all sorts of races, nationalities and religions. I think that's progress. A lot of people here don't agree with me.

I nearly forgot. We had two gay kids. The thing is they were brother and sister. What are the odds of that? I always felt sorry for them - not because they were gay, but because their folks wouldn't let them play in the chats with the rest of us kids.

*makes smores and more smores* Did I mention that I'm beginning to feel a sugar rush? I tend to become chatty when that happens.

...I kinda know what you're talking about....

The Army kids, happily, didn't have the habits that a stable community might have, in terms of insularity. (That applies to the larger military community, of course, starting in the post-WW2 years.) We were all American kids in a foreign country, and it's natural for people to overlook the differences which are largely superficial, when we were there for the same reason. The hardest part of the brat life was having to say goodbye to one's friends - all of them - on a regular basis. A tour of duty generally lasts a couple or three years. But on the other hand, it becomes easier to make friends.

The basic religious breakdown was Protestant-Catholic-Jewish, an occasional Mormon family, and families like mine, who were vaguely Christian. There may have been some cultural divide therewith, but not much.

The racial groups were proportionately represented. There were bigots, now and then, but those people generally shot themselves in the foot, socially. *They* were the problematic minority, so to speak.

I was always happy with the diversity. So were my peers. We got along well.

We were all there for the beer. Yeh. Buh.

Hyp, I just read on CNN about some storms in your general area. Hope your weekend goes OK.

And to our Travellers, well, be careful out there.

morning all -- wow, you've been busy last night! --- I'll spend the weekend considering all this ----

thanks then Leo -- fascinating --- I wondered where your mastery of language came from ---I knew you were a student of some note! And Jewish eh? so you and Mr/Mrs Phred can compare mysteries!

I shall later peruse Hyps and X,s and y'all's discussion on defence and dangers and political spooks -- as I have to go out into the day in a minute -

ok, well, perhaps you've already all travelled off for the weekend, but I'll leave my little pieces here for the sake of it all ----



Slunk into this world on the Aries/Taurus cusp, in April 1955.

Born in the county of Sussex on the coast of South East England --Its a beautiful county, with history in every stone. My father used to collect flint arrowheads which he turned up whilst ploughing the fields.

The landscape is dominated by the South Downs - chalk hills covered with wild scabious and poppies, and ending at the sea in sheer chalk cliffs --- the most famous being Beachy Head --- incredible sea views and one of the nations most famous suicide spots --people drive for miles to do the deed --

The South Downs have a guardian -- a huge figure carved into the chalk -known as The Long Man of Wilmington -- he's very ancient - no-one really knows his origins -- I think he's the work of a neolithic shroomer -- He was always in my life -- we'd go on picnics with my Gran, and I would sit on his head and offer him sandwiches ---

he's well documented -- check Google -- or http://www.sussexpast.co.uk

My Dad is a gift and a treasure and a wonder to me. He's a farmer - he and my Mum still live in the rambling Sussex farmhouse that I was born in -- they are in their eighties now, so's my brother runs the farm. My Dad is also a man of the church. (his father was an archdeacon -used to wear long black robes --) He is no ordinary churchman though - writes sermons on the cosmic Christ! He's a mystic, a writer, a philosopher and very academic and learned -- the house is lined with shelves and shelves of books -- I spent most of my childhood with my Dad - truckin' around in the Land Rover on the farm -

My Mum is an enigma, a beauty, a lost and mysterious soul. I remember her laughing lots though. I love her deeply. -- Her beauty now is as haunting as it always was -- these days folks like her would have a community, some help and a place to go -- some people call it Asperger's Syndrome -- a form of autism - normally occurs if someone is very gifted in a certain area, or chronically sensitive -- I thought my mum would haunt me for the rest of my life, but in fact here on h2 I managed to finally write that poem I thought I could never write, and it has helped me to clear my mind --if you are interested its here: A4258343. This poem is a main part of my life story.

I have two brothers -- I'm the girlie in the middle. They are both sweeties. I love my brothers. My eldest brother has the Aspergers autism, but he is managing fine these days in his own way. He's 55 now. His extraordinary, yet wayward, mind was the main influence on my childhood! I just took it or granted that this guy was wandering around reciting the bible in Ancient Greek, seeing visions of angels, receiving prophetic dreams, getting visited by WW2 soldiers, having fits, and all sorts. He's a beautiful fellow.

My kid bro is a cool dude -- I'd better be nice -- he's a computer whizz and will one day find my password -- he and I went everywhere together throughout our childhood. He's brilliant and looks like Prince Andrew. He also has Addisons Disease - which he developed in adulthood --its a tough call, but he has used it so so wisely and has even made a website to help other sufferers --

Hey -- that's it --- oh, my grandmother was a lizard ... no..these are the people who shaped me ---I was in my own world by the time I was five - drew pictures all day. I saw the Great Spirit in the centre of a tulip. I saw the pain and the glory in the centre of the human heart. I did go to school --- I think ----but mainly taught myself --- I think

Amen -- any thoughts on this? I'd love to hear ---

thanks for all being you

Helen

Xantief..What happened if you failed to sign a loyalty oath? Everyone was scrambling to prove their loyalty. The Principal would call in your parents. If you failed to sign the cafeteria loyalty oath you didn't eat. The librarian wouldn't let you check out books if you didn't sign hers. The bus driver wouldn't take you to school if you didn't sign his. The school nurse wouldn't take your temperature if you got sick....It was like the school prayer thing...immense pressure to participate at least passively. After the war, there was a period of about 10 years when I over-reacted and refused to stand for the National Anthem or for the pledge of allegiance.

If the nuclear war thing had happened it would have been very bad. All the worthwhile things were multiple-targeted. "Making the rubble bounce" was a common expression. "Over-kill" was another. One of the pilots I flew with confided in me that his nuclear target had been an unpopulated crossroads in the Urals, for example. I read the US military plans for collecting the dead in garbage trucks and putting them unregistered into mass graves. Good to have a plan.

Good morning everyone...Coffee? Tea? Cream or Mayo?

Helen,

Sounds like an interesting family. Over here a Range Rover is a huge status symbol. My mapping program shows towns and cities like Dover and Greatstone-on-sea, but not political subdivisions like Sussex. What do you call those anyway? What town is your family farm near?

I liked the poetry, as usual, but you mostly described your family and very little about yourself in early life. Is that due to the British reserve we hear so much about?

I have a younger brother and sister. My brother has been a Pit Boss in Nevada for a long time. His job is to handle dishonest dealers. Two of his eldest sons from his four marraiges died on August 8th, both at age 19. One from a motorcycle accident and one froman oxycontin overdose. He has become very withdrawn.

Let me boil some water on the fire to sterilize the utensils.

sterilize the utensils ??

Land Rover in the 60s was a working farm truck - for dogs and hay and sometimes a sheep in the back. Land Rover and Range Rover are more designer labels these days - cool though if you got the cash.

Sussex is a county. Like Kent and Hampshire and Devon and Dorset and Somerset and Avon etc. Each county has its own character. Eastbourne is the town you're looking for. Or Brighton.

More about me in early life? - well, I was just a relatively happy kiddie. Just like other boys. Climbed trees and made up stories and drew all over my dolls with a ballpoint pen. (knew I should have been a tattoo artist!) I was in my own world --- like most kiddies I think. I kept rubber snakes in a shoe box and sang to my plastic trolls.

I went to an all-girls, very English boarding school. I had two notebooks. One for schoolwork, one for my real work - my drawings and writings. My inner world kept me sane -- the school was OK. I did what I had to do - excelled at nothing, but learned enough facts, parrot-style, to pass the necessary exams - then forgot everything. I am self taught in the things that matter - even though I am in fact grateful for my school ---it could have been a lot worse.

I had friends, and never got beat up. In one history class I drew approximately 237 bugs in ballpoint pen on the back of my fact-sheet. Great bugs. Loads of legs. And stripes. And antennae.

OK ??? No time like now for me. .. 50 is the best! I'm outta here.

See y'all

H

Xantief, the bad weather skipped over us. I'm fine.

Must rush off to work. I'll be back later to finish my wine.

I think Cactus is an . She's always awake a good hour or two before any of us, yet she resists the temptation to braid Xantief's beard, arrange flowers in Hypatia's ears, or paint the sunrise on Phred's face.

Michelangelo's "Moses" has horns. It looks kind of like Mike didn't really know what to do with them, so he just stuck 'em in on top.
http://www.onlinekunst.de/maerz/img/s5_b2_michelangelo.jpg
If they were a drop smaller and more pointed I wouldn't say no if someone offered...
The horns are really a translation mistake.


When Moses comes down from Mt. Sanai it says his face shone. Alas, Hebrew hasn't got quite the plethora of descriptive verbs that English does, so it actually says "light came from the skin of his face." The words for ray (of light) and horn are the same in Hebrew--you're supposed to be able to figure it out based on context.
Whichever monk was on duty for that line apparently couldnt.
Considering the fact that the monkish translation would then read "horns came from the skin of his face," I think Michelangelo was quite generous!


Everyone asleep again? Good, I'll help myself to the rest of the breakfast omlette then. .

I heard about the cold war drills. I also heard that ducking under your desk wouldn't have done much good either... I took the liberty of assuming that they weren't quite on the scale suggested in "The Mouse That Roared". (Anyone read that lovely book?)
YOu're right about our fire drills! We never made it out in the required 4 minutes either.
The closest to those drills that I've ever seen was a Gulf War video from my cousin in Israel. They actually did dig a bunker in their backyard, and everyone was issued gas masks and built themselves a sealed room. You end up flipping through a lot of photo albums when you visit strangers all year, and almost everyone has a picture of their entire family crowded into a sealed room with their gas masks and a radio.
I'm glad things are more boring now.

--And I can't beleive they had you kidlings signing loyalty oaths! It's- It's- well, it's not very... something.

Re: Diversity; Some mornings when I'm bored I play "Find the WAS". The purpose: to count the number of White Western European/Caucasians on the bus or train. This morning I totaled a record number: 4, not including myself.

Cactus, you have my official approval. I much prefer people who doodle bugs on their papers than those who feel the need to rewrite their name over and over and over with different decorative designs...

Say, Phred, is that a possum over there? In the mood of showing off your culinary talents?

First we need to catch him and feed him Frosted Flakes and Sam Adams for two weeks. You catch him, we'll let Xantief wine and dine him and the par-blanching part will come much later....It will taste like a Chili version cross between chicken and Kobe steaks.

I've always suspected that many NYC taxi drivers are of extra-terrestial origin.