The nuclear option
WASHINGTON -- When residents of Hawaii recently endured a half-hour of believing they were going to be incinerated by an incoming ballistic missile, many of them spent the time telling friends and family members that they loved them. It was ennobling and heartwarming and uplifting to the human spirit, of course, but kind of predictable and somehow not very ... satisfying. With the help of some friends, I came up with better ways one might spend that nuclear half-hour, wherever and whenever it may occur.
Let the dog hork down all the meat in the house. Then take him for a walk and "forget" the poop bags.
Go to the airport and park free for all eternity in the short-term parking lot.
Eat a big meal and go swimming. Run with scissors. Hold back a sneeze. Play with matches. Drink straight from the milk carton. Go outside with wet hair. Chew your ice cubes. Strain hard on the pot. Then call your mother and tell her what you have done.
One bucket of eclair filling. To go.
Change into dirty underpants.
Yell at your spouse for bringing home those green bananas.
Get in your car, gun it and race through every speed camera you know of.
Buy hundreds of "Hamilton" tickets for pennies on the dollar.
Tell Facebook you have solved the elusive Riemann hypothesis, proving conclusively that the zeta function has its zeros only at the negative even integers and complex numbers. Promise to reveal the solution in an hour.