Don’t worry about the bomb.

Big bang theory.

It is so easy to fall in love with this place, Los Alamos. Air here is the cleanest in America, the weather is almost ideal, Los Alamos is just moments away from the art and native craft capitol of America, Santa Fe. People come from all over America and from many foreign countries to work and/or retire here. Some even retire and start their art career here.

Artists come here to be inspired and paint with water or oil, promote their creations, photographs nature, carve native wood, create bronze and metal work, write and play inspired music, and experiment with tasty farm fresh cuisine, and engage in every kind of craft and design imaginable. And some just come to walk, hike, bike, ski, teach and learn yoga, and involve themselves in all manner of recreation and meditation .

I expressly came here to enjoy brunches on our patio deck. Outside. In fresh air. Eating like royalty living near the warm sandy water’s edge of the Mediterranean. Feasting on raisin bran and soy milk. Just a morning sunrise delight.

However, our peaceful repast had some unexpected interruptions every so often. Coming from a distant location was an occasional, Gar-r-r-BOOM! A mighty explosion. Coming from afar. The first boom we stood with our ears perched up in the sky. Listening for commotion, clamber, and sounds of emergency activity. But nothing was heard. Just the resolute quietness of the neighborhood. No one stirring. Just normal neighborhood ambiance. Birds, buses, and backyard clatter. But after that first Big Bang, two or three sounded a few days later.

But not trying to be an alarmist, I text my daughter who lives about a mile away and messaged her if she heard the booming over the past few days.

“Oh, that’s just the weapons testing out at the lab.” Oh, just weapons testing huh?

“Yup.”

Hmm. Peaceful? Just your normal occasional Ba-a-a-BOOM!

“Just don’t pay it any attention.”

O-o-kay.

Suggested reading:

Dr. Strangelove, or how to stop worrying and love the bomb.

One of my favorite “Cold War” books.

About Chuck Ayers

It was mostly by accident I was born to Okie parents. But in Los Angeles of all places. What were Okies doing in L A? Why not born in Honolulu or Rio de Janeiro? Never the less, I grew up in East L A and in eastward suburbs. Becoming a true native Californian but with the back woodsy culture and sociology of red dirt Oklahoma. A mix not easy to work with. How could I make it big in Southern California with my limited vocabulary and all the while habitually wiping my nose on my sleeve? It weren’t easy. Follow Chuck on facebook at: http://www.facebook.com/chuck.ayers2 And on Twitter at: http://www.twitter.com/MrWritermelon Email: mr.writermelon@gmail.com
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