Shamuck

The tone was set this morning when my wife said of the Air France flight that went missing recently, "The Americans say the debris are from the plane. The French insist they're not. I smell a cover-up?" "A cover-up of what? What's the motive" "Oh, that the government has some people it wants to be kept alive but presumed dead, so they stage a plane crash."

So when she brought up our (tentatively) forthcoming vacation to San Diego and expressed reservations about taking the kids to the beach because of the risk of "rogue waves" (which "snatch people unexpectedly off the shore and carry them out to sea, never to bee seen again" and are "a lot more common than is reported, probably because the seaside communities don't want people to hear about them since it would devastate tourism"), I blew a gasket. I couldn't believe that I was with someone whose conspiracy radar / barely-rational fear factor was so highly developed. I said unkind things. I felt bad. I still feel bad. I need to apologize. I don't want my kids to grow up in a shroud of paranoia. I need to apologize anyway.