Friday, February 17, 2006

Atomic-Age Love

I've got to admit, I was born just a bit too late to really appreciate the cold war fear of nuclear war. But I bet if I had been a young parent in the mid-fifties, this short tale of atomic-age angst would have had me out in the back yard digging a bomb shelter.

Actually, the author does a good job chronicalling the minutae of a typical 50's suburban housewife's day, never more than hinting at the nagging sense of impending doom she is struggling with. Only in the final paragraphs, as she and her husband prepare for bed, does she confront her fears - that the worst will happen and they'll all be blown to smithereens.

Leave it to "reassuringly big and blond" hubby Jim to bottom-line it for her: "O.K.," Jim said. "Suppose it were to happen. The bombs and the missiles and all hell breaking loose. It would be a shame to remember this sort of life and realize that we'd never valued it enough."

Who knew the big lug was such a philosopher?

Mike Ludlow, who illustrated the piece, is one of my favourite artists from this period. In fact, I'm pretty sure his was the first scan I ever sent out to the then tiny TI mailing list. You can see a nice sampling of his work in my Mike Ludlow Flickr set.

Next week: Auto Racing!

1 comment:

  1. Hello! Do you know where I might find the entire story from the Saturday Evening Post? I would love to keep reading!