Have you ever had one of those moments of blissful disillusion in which you feel so safe, much safer than “the rest of the world”?
I had one of those this morning. Sitting there in my NASCAR jammies, dogs at my side, drinking my usual WalMart knock-off of Crystal Light Iced Tea with Lemon. I was watching the solemn ceremonies at Arlington after having listened to the President’s comments on the events in North Korea…and I felt safe. Heck, I live in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains! I don’t live in New York City anymore, or a suburb of Detroit. I live on a cattle ranch for Goddess’ sake…and I felt safe.
Then I said to my dogs, “Oh, Crap! We live in the foothills of the freakin’ Rocky Mountains!!! Home of untold numbers of military bases, hidden missile silos and a Federal Super Max!!!”