Ad nauseam

No Shelter from the Air War

By Rick Horowitz

It begins.

Even down here, with strong walls on each side and also a ceiling, we know it begins. From high up, the humming. Also the rumbling. Sometimes it is louder, and sometimes not so loud. But we know. Even down here, even beneath the street, we know.

We are hearing for so long about it. How big it will be. How powerful.

"Things are quiet now," they are always telling us. "But wait. Perhaps we look weak and defenseless now, but do not underestimate us. Soon it will all be different."

Myself, I believe them. Some others, they do not believe them, but I believe them: It will be different.

One hundred million dollars of commercials -- this is different.

One hundred million dollars of commercials, and already it begins, eight months before the Election Day. Already we see pictures, and more pictures, and music, and flags. And slogans. They say these slogans over and over again, so no one should ever forget them.

He is "steady."

Again he is "steady."

Always he is "steady" -- I remember this already, every day, and also in my dreams.

And this is only the beginning.

In the beginning, they are only telling us how good he is, and even his wife is telling us how good he is. (I think they are worried, if already they are using his wife to tell us things.)

"But wait," they say. "This is not the only thing we can tell you, and his wife can tell you -- how good he is. We want also to tell you how terrible the other one is."

And this, too, is coming -- I am sure of it. How the other one is no president. Is no leader. Is no patriot. Is no...anything.

Eight months of this. One hundred million dollars.

The other one will have commercials, too, but not so many. The bombs will come from both sides -- today, this is what politics is -- but from the other one, not so many. It will be difficult for him.

And more difficult for us.

Where we are, everyone wants to control -- on both sides. We are a "battleground" place, a crucial place. Without us, they are thinking, victory is uncertain, and what is most important of all -- more important than anything, more important than anyone -- is victory.

Some places will be spared. But not this place. In such a "battleground" place, nothing will be spared. Here, we will feel many bombs -- soon, and for a long time.

So we make our plans -- my family, the other families -- and we gather what is necessary for us and we come down here, without the television, where maybe we survive.

Or maybe not.

The children, they also hear this humming and this rumbling, and they are frightened. "Papa!" they cry. "We do not like these sounds! Make them go away!" That is when we try to say whatever words will calm them, but they hear high up what we hear, so calm is not easy.

What we want most to say to them is, "Take heart, children -- in one minute, it will stop."

What we say to them instead is, "November isn't far." And to ourselves, we hope very soon there are no more dollars on this side or that side either.

In politics, more dollars means more bombs. It is always better to have more bombs.

Unless you are where the bombs are falling.

Posted 3/8/04. For quick relief, click to "Rick's" -- you'll have a whole new outlook!

Rick Horowitz is a syndicated columnist, TV commentator, writing coach and public speaker

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