They pulled up in front of the apartments. Things looked different.

There were two times in his life when Bobby had gone somewhere to do something, and when he got back found the world completely changed.

One had been in 1951. He'd gone off of play baseball in the neighborhood park, and when he got back, he found that his mom and Carpenter had gone off in the cab, and the rooming house was full of cops, FBI men and MPs.

The other was tonight, when he stepped out of Stewart's car and realized his 1946 Ford Super Deluxe wagon was gone.

Gadge got up and took a pee, then got back in bed.

What a week. Teachers on his case. Russians with missiles all over, bad gorilla movies, and now Bobby gets his woodie stolen.

He turned on his radio; the DJ was babbling, it was 2:30 in the morning. Good thing he only had a language lab on Saturdays at noon.

Ral Donner's "The Girl of My Best Friend" came on, a Golden Oldie from way back last year.

He thought of Gramps; he could see him and the robot like it was yesterday. Gramps had been dead four years now; the robot had been gone five. After all that stuff with the Commie spies, Gramps had shot the robot off in the V-2 the Army had given him, a year before Sputnik. They'd lost contact with the robot and the rocket a few minutes after takeoff, and that was that. While he was still little, ten, eleven years old—he held out hope that the robot was still up there. He'd watch the night sky for hours at a time for some blink of light, some flashing thing passing overhead. Nothing.

When they made that crummy movie based on Gramps, they hoked it all up. There wasn't any telepathy-thing with him and the robot. It was a fairly simple big machine and could perform some simple functions. That didn't mean Gadge hadn't loved it, and Gramps.

And there wasn't a love-interest for his mom, either. They made all that stuff up. His mom had died three years ago. He had enough money left over from Gramps to go to junior college, and live in these swell apartments, and eat and put gas in the Vespa, and that was about it. There was more money coming when he turned twenty-one.

As if the Russkies would ever let that happen, now.

What he mostly remembered about the night he and Gramps went to the planetarium for the supposed lecture (a cheap Commie trick to kidnap them) was that there had been a bunch of teenagers in a circle out in the parking lot; in the middle two of them were having a knife-fight. He'd watched from the back seat, between the two big Commie refrigerators with bad haircuts, as they pulled away. One of the juvies was throwing down his knife.

Then the Russkies had put the sack over his head and thrown him down on the floorboards, and one kept his feet on him the whole trip out to the Last Chance Garage.

Orphans. We're all orphans in one way or another, Gadge thought. His dad was killed in Korea; his mom, Gramps and the robot in the last five years. Bobby's dad had bought it at Anzio, and his mom got cancer five years ago; Stewart and Roger's mom and dad were blown up in a lab fifty feet from them, five years ago.

The Cold War was sure rough on kids.

Now the radio was playing Neil Sedaka's "Happy Birthday, Sweet Sixteen." Yeah right, thought Gadge. Welcome to the future, kid. Fifty megatons, right up your butt. Like the posters people printed, of the toothless old man in the jet helmet—"Sleep Tight Tonight. Your Air National Guard Is On The Job!"

He turned off the radio and went back to sleep.

At some point in the night, Hayley Mills climbed down the other side of the fence, real slow.

Things began to happen pretty fast that morning.

Bobby was staring at the empty space where his car had been in front of the apartments.

The guy in the house across the street, who had talked to the cops the night before—he told them the wrecker had been "black or blue" and that "it had a big hook on it"—walked over to him.

"I just remembered something. You know, in the excitement and all. I had been watching TV when I saw the cops over here, after I'd seen the tow truck pull your car off. The TV was showing pictures of little Caroline Kennedy playing with her pony Macaroni at the White House. They were near that tree house JFK had built for her, out in the back yard. You could—"

"What was it you remembered," asked Bobby. It would probably be something like "The tow truck had wheels on it."

"—oh yeah. That wrecker had some pink or lavender paint on the front fender. You think that's enough we should call the cops back? You think it'll help get your car back?"

"Thanks." said Bobby. "I don't think we should call the cops about it. But I think it'll help get my car back."

The guy looked at him funny, then scratched his head. "Well, okay." he said.

All three tow trucks were outside. He looked through Gadge's 80 x 300 binoculars he'd borrowed before Gadge had to go off to his language lab.

The back garage doors, facing him, were open. His wagon wasn't there. And for a Saturday, the junkyard was pretty empty.

He was listening to his transistor radio. The news was that all the Russian ships had stopped except the Grozny, which came on toward the American quarantine line.

It was hailed.

It didn't stop.

A Navy destroyer escort fired a shot across its bow.

The Grozny steamed on toward Cuba.

The Navy shot off its rudder.

The news got out about twenty-seven minutes after it happened.

People moved around at the office. A few minutes later a couple of cars pulled in, and women and kids got out of the cars that drove into the garage and came out back. They carried boxes and blankets and dolls, and after awhile they came out of the mazes between the cars and went into the bunker.

The fat guy closed the place up and came back toward the fallout shelter in a '59 Ford pickup. The back end was full of shotguns, rifles and ammo boxes. He and some other guys carried the stuff inside.

Then nothing happened in the junkyard for two hours.

Some Cuban tugs were sent out.

Meanwhile the rest of the Russian freighters got up good heads of steam and plowed toward that imprisoned isle.

Then the bleach-blond kid and the fat guy came out of the bunker. They talked. The fat guy handed his son some money. The kid walked out through the junkyard, through the office, got in the big wrecker and left.

Then for a while nothing happened but the radio. One of the songs it played was "Asia Minor" by Kokomo, and Bobby Darin's "Beyond the Sea," a song Bobby had always liked.

The junkyard owner went back inside the fallout shelter. The kid went up on the catwalk—the dogs were banging themselves against the side of the pens and gate. The kid opened the lift-gate like a sluice. Dogs squirted out like water from Grand Coulee Dam.

The kid jumped down on the outside of the fence—dogs slamming against it and barking and growling all along it. They seemed a little confused being out in the daytime, and the kid walked along the fence to the front of the place and got in one of the cars and drove away.

The radio said a disc jockey in Cleveland had just been fired on-air for dedicating a record to Nikita Krushchev, and then playing the Cuff-links' "Guided Missile (Aimed At My Heart)."

"Yeah, well. Get on over here—we gotta work fast."

"Everybody here's upset," said Stewart. "Sarah's fluttering around like ZaSu Pitts. It looks like it's even getting to Roger."

"What if I sent Gadge over?"

"I thought he had class?"

"They cancelled it. He was already home when I called him by mistake trying to call you. They're all shook up out at the college, too."

"You think this is a good idea? I mean, this is looking like it."

"And if the world doesn't end, I've lost my wagon for good. Soon it'll be purple and pink and the wood'll be dark teak. And legal-like, too."

"Hang tight, then. I'll be over as soon as Gadge gets here."

Bobby called Gadge back. Gadge didn't want to go, with everything looking serious and all.

"Look," said Bobby. "What if WWIII happens? Can you see yourself riding away from the Apocalypse on a Vespa? Come on, Gadge—"

"Call me Brian. I told you that a thousand times."

"Ga—Brian. There's three or four cars at Stewart's place. Something happens, you all jump in two or three and take off."

"I wanna go with you guys, if I'm going anywhere. I know something's up."

"Look, G—Brian. I do not know how long this is gonna take. Stewart's worried about everybody there. Roger likes you; you'll calm him down; he'll calm Sarah and Miz Jones down; everybody will be calm, including you."

"Roger gives me the creeps sometimes."

"Yeah, well, remember what he went through and what you went through. I'm pretty sure everything gives Roger the creeps. Look. Just do it. I'll give you—I don't know—money."

"Never mind that," said Gadge. "I'll do it. What you said about A-bombs and motor-scooters made sense."

"You're a pal," said Bobby.

"Yeah, right."

"You should call the cops. There's your wagon. There they are."

"Nah. The kid's gone. There's dogs all over the place. The cops'll get their asses eaten getting in there, or they'll have to shoot all the dogs. What if, say, it's not mine? I know it is, you know it is. They gotta get a judge to sign a warrant. And the fat guy didn't do it. It's the kid."

"Call the cops," said Stewart. "No matter how much trouble it is, no matter how many fallout shelters they gotta look in to get a judge."

"No." said Bobby.

"Why not?"

"Because now it's personal."

"I knew you were going to say that," said Stewart.

"Uh …"

"You climb up on that catwalk there, from outside the fence. You throw food in the pens. You open the gate. They come in. You close the gate. That'll be my job."

"What's mine?"

"While I'm doing that, you open the front garage door and you drive your wagon out. You pick me up, two blocks over that way. Or, things still being quiet, I walk back to my car up on the hill and drive myself home. We go to the nearest cops and you tell them you found your car. Someday, when no one's looking, you back-shoot the kid."

"There's things that can go wrong with your plan, as I see it …" said Bobby.

"Yeah. I can fall in the pens and get eaten up. Or the people in the bunker see what they think is someone stealing a car they think is legally theirs, and they shoot you full of big holes. Other than that, what's there to worry about?"

Stewart got up.

"Where you going?"

"You think food for the dogs is gonna walk down here? And how are the front garage doors locked?"

"Slaymakers as big as toolboxes," said Bobby. "Oh."

"Oh is right. Stick tight."

"What if the kid comes back and starts doing stuff to the car?"

"The kid ain't coming back today or tonight unless bombs start dropping; if they do, he ain't gonna be thinkin' about chopping and channeling your rod. If he were coming back, he wouldn't have let the dogs out, because then he's gotta put 'em back in again. He'll be back tomorrow when they usually put the dogs back in. Ever read any Pavlov? I thought not."

"Well—"

"Worst comes to worst, Bob," said Stewart, "You can always call the cops."

He left. While he was gone, Bobby doodled in the sand with his finger the symbols:

"Guy in the store said raw meat was the one thing that wasn't selling. Nobody wants to take fresh meat down in a fallout shelter. Gave me a big-guy discount."

The bolt-cutters lay between them, the size of a small lawnmower. Stewart got them from a tool rental place a mile away.

"See," said Stewart. "We could be home. We could be playing Scrabble®. We could set our alarm clocks and get out here tomorrow at dawn. But no. You gotta play like Tom and Huck rescuing Jim, when Jim's just fine."

"Shut up," said Bobby. "I'm just as cold as you are."

"Ah, yes," said Stewart, "but the difference is, you want to be cold, not me."

Bobby turned on his radio. It was 4 a.m., Pacific time. Some minutes before, daylight already out over the Atlantic, over central Cuba, either the Russians or the Cubans had shot down an American U-2 spyplane.

"Wake up!" said Bobby.

"Huh?" asked Stewart, sitting up.

"We're in deep kim-chee. The timetable's been moved up."

He cut the bolt of the lock on the right-hand door. It popped apart like cheap swing-chain. These things must have about 6 million tons of torque, he thought, admiring the boltcutters. He lifted the garage door—what a racket—then closed it in case anyone was driving by.

His car was still up on the wrecker hooks. He threw the boltcutters inside.

He went to the wrecker, cranked it up, tried to figure out which gears and levers did what. He pulled one. Nothing happened. Then another. His car moved an inch.

He thought he heard yelling. He killed the motor. He heard yelling.

A blur of a dog shot through the back garage doors and bounced off the wrecker.

About that time, the front garage door opened. There stood the bleached-blond kid with a pistol in his hand; beyond him a car with its lights on idled.

The dog went over the kid's head and lit out for San Pedro.

The kid fell on his back and started emptying the pistol into the ceiling.

Bobby cranked up, gunned the wrecker motor and roared out of the garage, missing the kid by a foot with the fishtailing Ford wagon.

"What happened?" asked Bobby, grinding the gears.

"The dogs didn't all come in. Then they must have seen me from the bunker, cause I saw guys with guns. About then I saw the kid pull up out front. I yelled as much as I could running as fast as I could. I think they shot at me—I heard shots anyway. I don't think I got the gate all the way down, either. The place is probably full of mutts. Geez!"

They swung out on the road. They didn't hear any sirens; no one was chasing them yet.

"Hey!" said Bobby. "This thing doesn't have a radio!" Stewart turned on his pocket transistor. He had to hold it up against the door handle to get better reception.

Groovy Ray Poovey was running down the Top Ten of the week: "That was #5, Frank Ifeild's 'I Remember You,' now here's #4!" and the Crystals' "He's Not A Rebel" came on.

"Great driving music." said Stewart.

Bobby and Stewart wailed along with the falsetto Frankie Valli, nodding their heads back and forth. Stewart looked out the back, over the Ford. No one chasing them still.

Bobby downshifted, ground the gears. The wrecker rolled to a stop.

"Damn!" He found first again.

"Now," said Groovy Ray Poovey, before we find out what that #1 song is, we'll play a—" his voice went into echo-chamber bass "—Old One From-m-m-m the-th-th Vault-ault-ault-ault" And out came the piano notes of Floyd Cramer's "Last Date" from 1960.

"I must have been running on adrenaline. Hey—what's this?" He was down in some kind of compound grandma gear. He started over. The rig started moving more than half a mile an hour again.

"And now," said the DJ "the number one tune of the week, and you know what it is—"

There was the sound of a creaking door, bubbles, a dragging chain …

And the mellifluous voice of Bobby "Boris" Pickett doing "Monster Mash."

It stopped. There was dead air. Then a weird high warbling tone came over the radio as they got in sight of Stewart's house.

"Video portum," said Stewart, his face ashen.

Bobby slammed the wrecker to a stop. He fiddled with the levers. His Ford dropped to the ground.

Gadge, Miz Jones, Sarah and Roger ran out of the house carrying blankets and food. Bobby undid the hooks, fished around for his keys, cranked the wagon.

Gadge and Miz Jones jumped in the car with him. Stewart and Sarah got in the admiral's sedan. All over the neighborhood people were running around like crazy.

"Get in, Roger!" yelled Stewart.

Roger stood facing north, looking far up into the sky.

He turned back and looked over his shoulder at the two waiting cars.

He did a little clumsy dance.

"Oh boy, oh boy!" he said. "Now you're really gonna see something!"

For Bill Warren, Joe Dante, David J. Skal, and William Schallert: keep watching the skies, guys.

And for Aunt Ethel Simpson, 1914-2000.

1) "Stranger On The Shore"—by Mr. Acker Bilk. The first pre-Beatle British record to make #1 in America, the week of May 26, 1962. It was used in the film The Flamingo Kid, which was set in 1962. If you're an alto sax or B-flat clarinet player, and can play this, you'll have all the girls (or boys) you want hanging around the bandstand …. (find in story)

2) In-and-Out Burger: for real and true (find in story)

3) "Fly Me To The Moon (Bossa Nova)": just making its way onto the charts (find in story)

4) Bobby (Benson): see The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951). Hereafter DTESS. (find in story)

5) Stewart (Cronyn): see Red Planet Mars (1952). Hereafter RPM. (find in story)

6) Gadge: Brian "Gadge" Roberts. See Tobor The Great (1954). Hereafter TTG. (find in story)

7) Pomphret (Also spelled Pomfrett, Pomfritt): English teacher, at first, in high school, then Peter Piper Junior College (j.c.). See the television series The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis (1959-1963). Played by William Schallert, one of the dedicatees of this story. (find in story)

8) Johnson: see TTG. Played by Schallert, too. See also some of the many books around on the CIA's use of journalists, teachers etc as "covers" during the 50s through the 70s. (find in story)

9) Dobie: Dobie Gillis, of the novel by Max Schulman and the TV series. Played by Dwayne Hickman. Blonde the first season, brunette afterwards. (find in story)

10) Dad: Herbert T. Gillis. Played by Frank Faylen. (find in story)

11) brother Joe's body: see Sunset Boulevard (1950). (find in story)

12) Norbert E.: taxi driver from Bedford Falls. See It's A Wonderful Life (1946). Bert and Ernie are the taxi driver and cop there. Since neither I nor anyone else remembers which is which, I made up the name Norbert E. so it could stand for either Bert or Ernie. (You have to watch me every minute.) Played of course by Frank Faylen. (Yes, Bert and Ernie on Sesame Street are named for the pair.) (find in story)

13) Elbert P., "Pinky": see Lost Weekend (1945). Played of course by Frank Faylen. (find in story)

14) "Medea": a standard kids' goof-off version of "Maria" from West Side Story. (find in story)

15) Opie and young Theodore: either it's Opie Taylor (played by Ron Howard) of The Andy Griffith Show and Theodore Cleaver (played by Jerry Mathers) of Leave It To Beaver, or Stewart is just using his Eddy-Haskell-type (Ken Osmond) sarcastic voice (as LITB would have it "to give some squirt the business") about a couple of nondescripts. (find in story)

16) running his father crazy: the Frank Faylen catchline on TMLODG was "I gotta kill that boy! I just gotta!" (find in story)

17) Roger was Stewart's: see RPM. The six years started where RPM ends. (find in story)

18) Krebs: Maynard G. The first beatnik on television. Played by Bob Denver, later Gilligan (no first or middle name) on Gilligan's Island. (find in story)

19) Bobby's car: it's a woodie, a wood-panelled station wagon, as described. Surfing was just starting big. Woodies were status symbols, and utilitarian, for carrying (as then called) surfing-boards to and from the beach. (find in story)

20) Gremmie: short for gremlin. Ho-dad wannabees. They had everything they needed for surfing except a board and a car … (find in story)

21) Ho-dad.: hotshot surfers who knew how to hang ten, shoot the pier, run a pipe, etc. (find in story)

22) "I Remember You" by Frank Ifeild: the second British song to bust the top 5, at #3 in the fall of 1962. (find in story)

23) Lawrence 6-1212: the number Helen Benson and Mr. Carpenter must have called to get a cab. See DTESS. (find in story)

24) H0012: the license plate of the cab Helen and Carpenter took. See DTESS. (find in story)

25) When he was eleven: okay—we've go to do this sooner or later. The chronology: DTESS is the only one of the three movies that takes place the year it was made, i.e. 1951. TTG, made in 1954, is set in 1957 or 1958, as Gadge's dad was "killed in Korea seven years ago." Unless he was killed in a peacetime accident in 1947, he died sometime after June 25, 1950, which puts the movie in 1957, at the earliest. RPM was made in 1952, but takes place "at the next closest opposition of Mars," which would have been in 1956. This is why everybody is the ages they are in the story … (find in story)

26) Sammy: Sammy blabbed about the cab to the Army and FBI men at the boarding house. Most people forget Bobby is never seen in the movie again after the scene where his tennis shoes are wet from the dew at the Mall. (find in story)

27) "Sea of Heartbreak": as it says (#21, 1961). (find in story)

28) rabbit ears and the tinfoil: remember broadcast television? (find in story)

29) the admiral: Admiral William "Bill" Carey. Played by Walter Sande, an actor you instantly believed in any role. See RPM. (find in story)

30) "Wonderland By Night" as it says (#1, 1960) (find in story)

31) The First Family: Album of the Year Grammy. Comedy record by Kennedy imitator Vaughn Meader. Events made this album sound very strange in later years. (find in story)

32) "Wheels": instrumental by the String-A-Longs (#3, 1961) (find in story)

33) date it: once you could go to any junkyard in America and pry off anything you wanted and pay something for it and take it home. As in so many things, California led the nation in fear-of-lawsuit. (find in story)

34) time for the nature lecture: He just gave one. This junkyard owner in 1962 understood ecology better than most people still do. (find in story)

35) mu-tants: as it was pronounced in so many 1950s sf films, including The Day The World Ended (1955). (find in story)

36) steal and kill and rob you: see Panic in Year Zero (1963). (find in story)

37) "Hit the Road, Jack" (#1, 1961): I heard this, from a DJ, in 1961, over the air. (find in story)

38) "West of the Wall": Miss Toni Fisher (#37, 1962). About lovers separated by the Berlin Wall, which went up in 1961. August, to be precise. (find in story)

39) model of the Frankenstein monster: hot off the mold in 1962. (find in story)

40) Miz Jones, Sarah: I made them up. This is fiction, and you have to do some of that, you know? (find in story)

41) after the lab explosion: for this paragraph, see RPM. (find in story)

42) Aunt Jessica and Uncle Hume: Jessica Tandy, Hume Cronyn. (find in story)

43) I figured if I needed a wife …: old Navy/Marine saying. (find in story)

44) Famous Monsters of Filmland #12: there are three movies (now four, but 13 Days doesn't count and I don't include Missiles of October which was made for TV) set during the Cuban Missile Crisis: The Steagle (1971), Joe Dante's (another dedicatee) Matinee (1992), both set in the US; and The Butcher Boy (1995), set in Ireland, Kennedy's spiritual homeland. It was David J. Skal (another dedicatee) who pointed out that 1962 was the height of monster-worship, in his book The Monster Show (1993). (find in story)

45) "Because They're Young": Duane Eddy instrumental (#4, 1960). Theme music to the movie of the same name, starring Dick Clark. (find in story)

46) fighting over groceries: this is in Matinee. This is also for real, too. People stayed home from work, got in their fallout shelters, etc. Leigh Kennedy wrote about it in her novel, Saint Hiroshima. (find in story)

47) All the Russian ships: the news stuff I give for the bulk of the story is accurate. Up to a point … (find in story)

48) Veronica and Angela Cartwright: hubba-hubba 12- and 13-year-old sister actresses (Make Room for Daddy, The Birds) in 1962 and hubba-hubba actress sisters now, too. (find in story)

49) Hayley Mills: daughter of Sir John, sister of Juliet. Hubba-hubba at 12 in 1962, even more so now. Started with Disney. Tore a hole in the screen. (find in story)

50) Six bits: that's 75¢ to you young whippersnappers. That was on a regular night. On "carload nights," usually Monday and Tuesday, as many people as you could cram in or on a car got in for 50¢ for the whole load. (find in story)

51) "My Boomerang Won't Come Back": as it says (#21, 1962). (find in story)

52) "Quiet Village": instrumental by Martin Denny (#4, 1959). (find in story)

53) give me 50¢: about what half this stuff would cost in 1962, without the box of Dots. (find in story)

54) Bride of the Gorilla (1951), Poor White Trash (1957), High School Confidential (1958): this is a pretty spavined lineup even for a 1962 triple feature at a drive-in. (find in story)

55) guy in a black hat: this is from The Big Chill (1983). (find in story)

56) Peter Graves: Graves played Chris Cronyn, Stewart's dad, in RPM. (You have to watch me every minute.) (find in story)

57) "Gazachstahagen" instrumental by the Wild-Cats (#57, 1959). (find in story)

58) always having trouble with gorillas: Bride of the Gorilla (1951); Gorilla At Large (3-D, 1953). (find in story)

59) Larry Verne, "Please Mr. Custer (I Don't Wanna Go)" (#1, 1960). (find in story)

60) Ben Colder, "Don't Go Near The Eskimoes" (#62, 1962). Ben Colder was Sheb Wooley, who had a hit in 1958 with "Purple People Eater" (#1). He was supposed to record "Don't Go Near The Indians," which became a hit for Rex Allen (#17). This song was a parody of the one he should have recorded. Sheb Wooley's the second person you see in High Noon (1952) after Jack Elam. He's Frank Miller's brother, Ben. (find in story)

61) oog-sook-mook: phonetic equivalent of the Eskimo chorus in this song. (find in story)

62) 50¢ a gallon: gasoline was @ 22.9¢ a gallon in 1962. (find in story)

63) "What in the World's Come Over You?": as it says (#5, 1960). (find in story)

64) Okay, Mr. Philosophical: see DTESS, RPM, TTG for details. (find in story)

65) roller skates: it was true. Also in American Graffitti (1973). (find in story)

66) "The Girl of My Best Friend": Ral Donner (#19, 1961). (find in story)

67) He thought of Gramps: see TTG. (find in story)

68) a bunch of teenagers in a circle: that would be Jim and Buzz with the knives. See Rebel Without A Cause (1955). The Griffith Planetarium is used again at the climax of that movie; in TTG (1954), Phantom From Space (1953), Invaders From Mars (3-D, 1953); War of the Colossal Beast (1958), and is the nightclub in Earth Girls Are Easy (1989). (find in story)

69) "Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen": as it says (#6, 1961). (find in story)

70) "Midnight in Moscow": instrumental, Kenny Ball and his Jazzmen (#2, 1962). An even better version was by the Village Stompers in 1965. (find in story)

71) Macaroni: I'm not making this up. Millions of people were worried about what would happen to this horsie if WWIII started. (find in story)

72) "Asia Minor" by Kokomo (#8, 1961): rock version of Grieg's Piano Concerto in A (get it?) Minor. (find in story)

73) "Beyond the Sea" by Bobby Darin (#6, 1960): this is Darin's version of Charles Trenet's "La Mer" in 1945. (find in story)

74) "Guided Missile (Aimed At My Heart): 1961. (find in story)

75) : The symbols drawn on the blackboard at the opening of every episode of Ben Casey. "Man. Woman. Birth. Death. Infinity." would intone Dr. Zorba, head of neurosurgery. Dr. Zorba was played by Sam Jaffe. Jaffe also played Professor Barnhardt in DTESS. (You have to watch me every minute.) (find in story)

76) kim-chee: only Koreans, or people in California, would know what kim-chee was in 1962. (find in story)

77) "Monster Mash": Bobby "Boris" Pickett #1 the week of the Cuban Missile Crisis. See Skal's The Monster Show. (find in story)

78) "I Remember You": as it says. (find in story)

79) "He's Not A Rebel": as it says. We're doing the top 5 of the Cuban Missile Crisis Week 1962. Also next two songs. (find in story)

80) "Last Date": instrumental, Floyd Cramer (#2, 1960). (find in story)

81) video portum: "I see the port/home" (find in story)