It has been a little more than fifteen years since I had the pleasure of laughing at vintage, Soviet-style, anti-American propaganda.  I had forgotten how ridiculously funny the posters, newsreels, and stories translated from Pravda were back then, even though I remember feeling bad for the honest, hard working Soviets who had no choice but to endure.  I was a boy, what could I do?
 
We never had a bomb shelter at the Newcomb house but, like most of the kids in my generation I practiced "duck and cover" in school.  America had no missile shield then, just a desk, a chair, and Mrs. Marshman tapping that huge yard stick on her desk as she counted down to our imaginary, impending doom. Geography was not a strong subject for me, but I never understood why they would want to drop an atomic bomb on White City, Oregon. None of the other kids complained so I just went along with the crowd.