Fighting Paranoia, and Losing

WHEN I WAS SEVEN YEARS OLD, people started telling me that I should spend more time hiding beneath my desk at school, or other furniture at home, because some bad people called "Russians" were going to start droping bombs, big powerful bombs, on us, very soon. Scared the shit outta me. And, as it turns out, it almost happened for real. The story now is that a Russian naval commander refused to obey an order to fire upon an American warship during the Cuban Missile Crisis. I already knew what death was. I found out about that when I was four years old, seeing my grandfather in his open casket. I can only guess that my mother took me with her either because she couldn't find a baby sitter, or she thought it was a good idea to learn about life, and death, early. One of the two, I honestly do not know which. But there he was, and I retained my outward composure, while freaking out inside myself. Hint; never take a four year old child to a mortuary. The Kennedy assassination, Viet Nam, and the burning of American cities in the nineteen sixties, all on television, might have played a role in tirggering my paranoia. Of couse, it also could have been "The Twilight Zone", with Rod Serling. Helluva television show. Maybe a bit intense for little kids. then too, the Flying Monkeys and the wicked witch scared me just like every other American child. Why do we continue to subject our children to that nightmare? Would the last one out please shut and lock the door? Oh! And when anybody firgures out whether we're doomed, or global warming is a hoax, could you maybe come and help me out, from under my bed?