So today, somewhat out of the blue they made us do a tornado drill.
yes indeed... duck and cover.
It's not like we don't get the occasional twister here in North Florida, but the whole "drill" thing was barely planned and came off looking like a total clusterfuck. The students totally didn't get it and no one really was really awake enough to provide the neccesary aura of danger or importance to the thing.
The kids were all like, "Man, why do we have to get on the floor like this?"
And I said, "It makes it easier to scrape up your bodies after you're dead."
It all reminded me of my highschool days when the county put us through something they liked to call a "Nuclear Safety Drill." This was back in the late 80's when Reagan was doing everything he could think of (short of firing the first shot) to get the Russians to bomb us.
Jacksonville - being a town with two military bases - was justifiably terrified of becoming ground zero, so the school board got all crazed for a while trying to figure out some sort of proactive plan we could use to protect ourselves from the coming armageddon.
What they came up with was this:
In the event of a nuclear attack, local schools would sound a special alarm.
Upon hearing this alarm, all students were to get out of their desks, walk
out of the school in an orderly manner, and then proceed to run as fast as
they could away from the blast.
I shit you not... we were supposed to outrun the bomb.
The thing was, once we got wind of how this genius plan for survival was supposed to work, a bunch of us decided to take it a step further. We'd get a block or so away from campus and then jump into our friends cars so that they could drive us to a safer location, such as... the beach, the mall, or Tony Parades' garage.
Anyone who didn't get picked up would go back to class, where they would inevitably face drop-jawed teachers asking where the rest of the class went.
The answer was always the same:
"...The bomb got 'em."
yes indeed... duck and cover.
It's not like we don't get the occasional twister here in North Florida, but the whole "drill" thing was barely planned and came off looking like a total clusterfuck. The students totally didn't get it and no one really was really awake enough to provide the neccesary aura of danger or importance to the thing.
The kids were all like, "Man, why do we have to get on the floor like this?"
And I said, "It makes it easier to scrape up your bodies after you're dead."
It all reminded me of my highschool days when the county put us through something they liked to call a "Nuclear Safety Drill." This was back in the late 80's when Reagan was doing everything he could think of (short of firing the first shot) to get the Russians to bomb us.
Jacksonville - being a town with two military bases - was justifiably terrified of becoming ground zero, so the school board got all crazed for a while trying to figure out some sort of proactive plan we could use to protect ourselves from the coming armageddon.
What they came up with was this:
In the event of a nuclear attack, local schools would sound a special alarm.
Upon hearing this alarm, all students were to get out of their desks, walk
out of the school in an orderly manner, and then proceed to run as fast as
they could away from the blast.
I shit you not... we were supposed to outrun the bomb.
The thing was, once we got wind of how this genius plan for survival was supposed to work, a bunch of us decided to take it a step further. We'd get a block or so away from campus and then jump into our friends cars so that they could drive us to a safer location, such as... the beach, the mall, or Tony Parades' garage.
Anyone who didn't get picked up would go back to class, where they would inevitably face drop-jawed teachers asking where the rest of the class went.
The answer was always the same:
"...The bomb got 'em."