Run to the Hills

"Soldier blue in the barren waste, hunting and killing the game - raping the women and wasting the men. The only good Indians are tame - selling them whisky and taking their gold, enslaving the young and destroying the old...run to the hills, run for your life - run to the hills, run for your life."

Run to the Hills ~ Iron Maiden

I just so happened to hear Run to the Hills on a heavy metal station in Las Vegas today. It instantly reminded me of my friend Mad Max in Kansas. I chatted with him about a week ago and had no intention of calling him. But it's Iron Maiden:

"What do you want asshole?" His phone etiquette leaves much to be desired, but it's Mad Max and he doesn't give a shit. "I'm sorry to bother you buddy, but I just heard your theme song on the radio and it made me think about you." -- "Which fucking song is that?" He asks in a matter of fact tone - "Oh, come on, you know what I am talking about." A few moments pass and he finally gets it - "Run to the Hills motherfucker! All of us should heed the advice and do what Iron Maiden suggested." I burst into laughter and say - "Goddammit Mad Max, as crazy as you are it still is nice to hear your paranoid voice."

I ask him what he thinks the Chiefs will look like this year - "I don't give a shit," is his answer. I then say - "Don't worry. The Apocalypse won't happen until after football season is over. Do you think the Chiefs have a chance to make it to the Super Bowl?" He repeats his earlier statement, but this time he adds the F-word to it. "Okay," I tell him in a calm voice, "No need to get your pantie in a bunch over it. What else is going on?" He tells me he is making sure all of his weapons are in working order and that he thinks something is wrong with his dog - "What's wrong with Doomsday?" That ought to tell you a little bit about him. Who names their dog Doomsday? "I don't know for sure. He has been limping around and not eating much. He has me worried." I snicker and say - "It's all your talk about the Apocalypse. It's upsetting him. Why don't you go rub his belly and reassure him that everything is going to be alright." 

We chat for a few more minutes and before he hangs up I ask - "You don't really sit around and think about the Apocalypse all day long. Do you?" He tells me in a stern voice - "Let's just say if they try to come rushing through my door the only thing you will hear is the sound of automatic weapons being fired in rapid succession. If they decide to drop a bomb on me I will be fucked like everyone else."