Safety Town

I tell this story quite a bit, probably because it speaks to my gullibility or remains a testament to the quaint obliviousness that resides deep within me. I told this story to one of the other physics grads while sitting around, drinking coffee, and wasting time -- having a casual conversation about how the media and government are particularly adept at instilling abject fear and paranoia in the populace at large. For some reason, this came to mind.

At any rate, when I was a pre-schooler, my mom enrolled me in this summer program designed to teach little children like myself how to be safety conscious and aware of the dangers lurking behind every corner. Safety Town was a veritable safety wonderland. During this program, we'd sit and listen to boring grown-up types tell us how to be safe. I'm sure there was dumb craftsy things that we had to do also. This portion of our safety-rific day was an absolute snooze fest, but I learned very important lessons such as never talk to strangers and always look both ways before crossing the street. Perils of wisdom were handed down to us, giving us the understanding that accepting candy from someone that we don't know is a very unsafe and unwise thing to do. From that time on, I wouldn't think twice about playing in the street or attempting to operate heavy machinery. If I found a gun or some other lethal weapon or any suspect object in general, I would be the first one to alert the nearest adult. Contrary to popular belief, huffing toxic fumes in the garage is not a good time in the least bit. Pull the green wire to defuse a ticking time bomb. If you're trying to escape from evil terrorists, a very rudimentary but effective bomb can be made out of chewing gum, a paper clip, and a plastic straw. The very important advice went on ad nauseum.

The aspect of this program which remains indelible in my memory was the safety playground in the parking lot of the school where all this safety-extravaganza went down. It was a fenced in enclosure that mimicked city conditions, just on a miniature (read: AWESOME!!!) scale. It had scaled-down buildings and accurately marked streets. Miniature street signs were at every street corner. Working traffic signals hung over the streets and alerted pedestrians to when it was safe to cross. During the course of the day, we would all get to learn and play in this miniature city and would take turns at being pedestrians or at riding big wheel tricycles down the city streets. Whoever thought to let us pre-schoolers ride big wheel tricycles down scaled-down city streets is an absolute genius. (Petulant Pre-schooler Me + Me-sized City = Most Incredible Fun Ever)

On the very last day of the program, I very much eagerly anticipated my last opportunity to ride the big wheels around the little, enclosed town. All went well, and it was a joyous occassion. Before I knew it, we were being told that it was time to head back inside the school. I was sad. At that instant, a strange man approached me from the other side of the fence, outside the school property. He offered me a piece of candy from his plastic bag. I almost took it, thinking that there couldn't possibly be anything wrong with a simple piece of candy. But I quickly remembered how important it is to never trust strangers. And this guy was most certainly a stranger, in every sense of the word. He was wearing the stereotypical bad guy, black winter hat (in the middle of the summertime, mind you) and was wearing a dark and creepy trenchcoat. I told him, "Thanks, but no thanks sir."

The fools behind me though were quick to take candy from this monster. I was absolutely perplexed. How could these kids be so stupid? Weren't they paying any attention? Some of the others smartly refused this strange man's offer of sweet, sugary goodness -- effectively reassuring my faith in humanity but not erasing the disappointment that I had in my peers who had sat with me and learned such valuable nuggets of safety wisdom yet still failed to recognize the most obvious looking of strangers.

I remember this next part quite vividly. Once we got back inside the school a bunch of us (the smart ones, that is) ran up to the officer who helped instruct the program. We told him about the stranger and the candy and the fools who had brought themselves to a quick and untimely demise by taking this candy (obviously laced with strychnine or maybe LSD). He went out into the parking lot to assess the situation further. Before we knew what was happening, he was chasing down the candy-pusher out in the parking lot and tackled him down to the ground, giving him violent blows to the head before finally placing him under arrest. That was the most exciting thing I had ever seen up to that point in my life, by far. It was a very surreal experience to have, and I was only a pre-schooler, so there's no way that I would have been able to identify the surrealness of the occassion. We all clapped and cheered for the heroic officer who had saved us from imminent doom and went back inside for more safety-themed arts and crafts, followed by a fun awards ceremony to commemorate the successful completion of the Safety Town Program.

The sight made quite the impact on my young mind. First they told us about the dangers of strangers, and then I actually saw it with my own two eyes. What a coincidence! Amazing! It's all true! Strangers are bad, and the rest of the things that we had been told must be true also. I was committed to being the most ardent follower of being safe.

Not until high school did I realize that the whole thing must have been staged.