As I drank coffee this morning I was reading Discover and Smithsonian magazines. One had an article about bomb shelters. In about 1965 I became friends with a girl who was moving from Devon to a nice old farm near me in Chester Springs. They had both places for a little period, and I went to visit them in the Devon house, where her father, Otto, made tempura. That was my first tempura. I don't remember her mother much -- I think her name was Mrs. They had a Volkswagen Beetle and smoked heavily, gassing me and my friend in the back (normal to gas children at that time). In the basement (finished, with a reclining chair) they had a BOMB SHELTER. We'd sneak in and eat tinned peaches. So, when I read the article about bomb shelters this morning, I looked in the photographs. Right in front -- TINNED PEACHES. Obviously there's a link. I don't remember being frightened of atomic bombs, but I scream every time I open a tin of peaches.