have fear! the threat is real!
Looks like I was a little premature by declaring myself fear-free this morning because I have seen the sign of armageddon and lo, it was ugly and frightening and almost caused me to run off the road.
As I drove past the Nassau Coliseum this morning, the sign came to me in yellow dot-matrix lighting, bigger than life and as evil as death. There, up on the giant electronic billboard, stood the seventh sign of the apocalypse:
Journey/Styx/Reo Speedwagon Wednesday, July 09, 2003 7:00pm
I slammed on my brakes. I panicked. Do I go pick up the children from school? Do I call 1-800-TIPS? God damn it, Rumsfeld never told me what to do in this situation. Why is the terror alert still at yellow if this kind of stuff is being advertised right in front of our eyes?
I decided to make my way to work, chain smoking and cursing the whole way here. I eyed every other car suspiciously, looking for people wearing parachute pants or Members Only jackets.
As soon as I got here, I decided to dig deeper into this terroristic threat. Surely, if this cell of Journey/Styx/Reo was operating right out in the open, there had to more sleeper cells around, ready to pounce on us at any second.
I hit the motherlode on the first try: The Rock Never Stops tour.
Warrant. Kip Winger. Slaughter.
My heart sank. Chills went down my spine. They say there is nothing to fear but fear is itself, but damn. This must come pretty close. I wondered if Cheney knew about this, if Powell was drawing up maps and readying a dossier to present to the U.N. These guys are so brazen, they put up a page showing where and when they will attack!
More research resulted in a phone call to my doctor asking him to double my Paxil dose before I had a nervous breakdown. These sleeper cells are everywhere, buying up the hairspray in your town, walking around in leather pants and knocking on the door of ever Mary Kay salesperson on your block. They're beckoning your girlfriends with their plaintive whines and shaking hips and loud guitars.
You know the names. They've been whispered in silent reverie by their legions since the dawn of the age of big hair. Def Leppard. Kiss. Iron Maiden. Loverboy. Sammy Hagar. Quiet Riot. Whitesnake.
Summer of Fear, indeed. And it's coming to a venue near you.