Please indicate your level of agreement with the following statements on a scale of one to three where one equals a firm yes, two equals maybe, and three is a firm no.

1. "I sometimes find myself laughing at other people's misfortunes, even though I'm not very proud of that reaction. Maybe it's just a way of saying 'There but for the grace of God go I.'"

One, two, or three?

Ronald Reagan was the president, Van Halen's suicidal anthem "(Go ahead and) Jump" was at the top of the charts, and I was fourteen years old and afraid. What I feared most was a sudden burst of light — a light brighter than the sun — and a roar of radioactive wind.

I was obsessed. Over a breakfast of Cream of Wheat, or during a family argument about my grades, I would find myself freezing. I would simply stop and listen for the blast. Waiting for the heat and then the quick disintegration, I would pause.

My mother worried that I had a personality disorder.

2. "People tell me that I express myself in an odd way — that I say things that are too deep for them, or that I don't explain what I mean."

One, two, or three?

In the summer of 1984 my parents decided we needed a family vacation. My father would take a break from his arthritic patients, and we would leave town for a couple of weeks. They decided to do something about my personality problem, my obsession, by renting a Winnebago and setting off for the Trinity test site in Los Alamos, New Mexico.

"The blast, as you'll see, was small. Certainly not apocalyptic in size," my father told me.

"They'd be bigger now. It's a matter of megatons vs. kilotons," I said.

"They've got gift shops by the blast site. The radiation is long gone. You can even buy souvenirs made from the melted sand. You'll see."

A 165 pound man standing in the open one mile from a half-megaton nuclear explosion would absorb ten thousand rems of initial nuclear radiation, would be seared by heat amounting to 500 calories per square centimeter, and would be sent flying through the air by the blast wave at a rate of well over 100 feet per second.

3. "I don't believe in feeling guilty about what I've done. There's nothing to be gained from it. 'Don't look back' — that's my motto."

One, two, or three?

The Winnebago was huge. A full kitchen, two tables in the center, a toilet, and even a cable television hook up, was contained inside the plastic walls of my parent's rented road slug. We took off for Los Alamos with the air conditioning on full blast. As we sped towards the Trinity test-site at forty miles per hour the only sounds were from the air vents. I demanded complete radio silence. I was frozen, listening.

4. "I don't like spending time alone, and I avoid it as much as possible."

One, two, or three?

Years later, after the cold war was over, I would still be obsessed. Even without nuclear Armageddon hanging over me, I would still find ways to stop, find reasons to freeze in my tracks. I would look up at the sky and worry about flying saucers, I would think about the ozone, or I would simply stop and listen to my own heart beating.

When I was fourteen I had Reagan, I had the button, and my panic attacks made sense.

5. Emotionally I am a very calm person. I seldom have strong feelings of any kind — angry, miserable, or ecstatic.

One, two, or three.