Stay at home...lock up the children!

With the Democratic National Convention right around the corner the city has been buzzing with predictions of the problems that this event will bring. With major highways, train stations, city blocks, and business being shut down to the general public for security reasons there has been talk of commuter delays for people like myself that work within the city. Officials have said that this event dwarfs any other event that Boston has ever seen, including the 4th of July celebration and the SuperBowl. On top of that, our police force has decided to strike over not having a contract, significantly reducing the number of officers the city can dedicate to the safety of this event. All the while the media has been painting a picture of a week filled with people being stranded at work for days or meeting their fate by being trampled under crazy mobs of confused commuters. And with the reduced police force the talk radio elite have been broadcasting several possible terrorist scenarios and even going as far as giving out step-by-step instructions in which someone would be able to carry one of these plans out. (Yeah, real smart move...Chuckles.) Over the past month everyone has been bombarded with sound clips of people and public officials saying things like, “It’s gonna be hell.”, “I’m staying locked-up in my basement all week”, and “It only takes one person with Small Pox to kill millions! We’re not ready for that!!!” Even our mayor made a public announcement saying that if you work in the city you should take the week of the DNC off. This just added gasoline to the fire.
 
I think back to four years ago. December 31, 1999 at 11:45pm to be exact. I was living with my ex-girlfriend at the time and we were hosting a New Year’s Eve party. While everyone was getting sauced, I was nervously peeking out the window and thinking I should have copped a pistol in case one of my ill prepared neighbors decided that they desperately needed to rush my three month supply of canned goods, bottled water, batteries, and other Y2K survival supplies. I stayed at the window, looking out over the block through the countdown and the few uneasy minutes afterward. At 12:05am I was relieved to find out that I wouldn’t have to go through a Dawn of the Dead scene, franticly boarding up windows, or licking off shots in the dark. My life was back to normal and the only negative thing that occurred from the Y2K scare was that I ended up having Chef Boy Ardee for lunch for three months.
 
So, these days I tend to be a little bit more laid back about warnings of public chaos and the general breakdown of civilization. While I’m sure the DNC will bring some public confusion, the chance of a possible terrorist threat, and other inconveniences ...I’m still planning on working that week. And as for being stuck on a delayed train for several hours or being trampled into a bloody pulp by wing-tips and high heels…I’m not too worried about that either. After all, the Chocolate Thunder Boy Wonder can fly.
 
I thought you knew…