Forgive me if I wax nostalgic for a moment. As soon as I heard of Putin’s hinting at the possible use of nuclear weapons in Ukraine and saw the corresponding massive spike in the sale of bunkers, the following ’80s song popped into my head:

… Six o’clock, TV hour, don’t get caught in foreign tower
Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn
Lock him in uniform, book burning, bloodletting
Every motive escalate, automotive incinerate
Light a candle, light a motive, step down, step down
Watch your heel crush, crush, uh oh
This means no fear, cavalier, renegade and steering clear
A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies
Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline…

It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine. — REM

War and Remembrance

As a kid, I remember my grandfather, a WWII vet, had built a small, all-block structure on the hillside across from his house in rural Pennsylvania. The door was thick and made from solid steel. It was always chilly in there, the air smelled stale, and the walls were lined with canned goods and fruits and vegetables in sealed glass jars.