San Clemente Meltdown Clock

Tick Tick Tick 

Who didn't protest their daily, 

childhood wake-up call,

"Get up, you'll be late for school!"

We like our sleep. 

Deep, deep sleep.

Wake us from it, and face our protest.

But protest, is what we do.

When the electric bill arrives, and it's 

off the chart high - we protest,

"Turn off those lights!"

Filling our car at the pump as the  

price flies past $50 we protest,

"The oil companies are screwing us!"

(actually it's Wall St, but that's a 

different conversation).

We protest when driving, 

"Hey, speed it up buddy, you're

blocking traffic." 

We protest when eating out, 

"This food is cold!"

We protest to the doctor, 

"My neck still hurts doc.

 Whatever you're prescribing, 

 ain't working." 

Protest shapes the emotional bow 

of Life's boat, as we plow thru troubled 

waters on our cruise to happiness - 

sailing towards the day's good stuff:

the smooth bits, 

the easy bits, 

the laughable bits, 

then whammo,

we hit a speed bump,

and boy do we protest,

"Where'd that come from?"

"Who put that there?"

"Why wasn't I notified?"

"Dang, I just spilled my coffee."

Chances are, we were notified the 

pesky speed bump was there, for 

safety's sake. 

To protect the neighborhood. 

Slowing traffic down to a safe 

and sane speed.

Slowing the fools of the world down 

before they kill us, is a protest-call 

worth making. And to keep making, 

until enough people hear it and finally, 

grudgingly, wake up.

But waking up, is hard to do.

The News is filled with protest calls 

not heard, and or worse - ignored. 

How many times have you thought,

"If I'd only known,"

or -

"Hey, I was too busy, okay,"  

as nightmare scenario crashes 

head-on into grizzled reality. 

"I knew the speed bump was there. 

 I watched them put it there. 

 Guess I forgot."

What is San Clemente's 40-year old 

wake-up call today? - SONGS.

A happy singsongy acronym, glossing 

over what we know is man's deadliest 

byproduct - nuclear meltdown.

Radioactive contamination on a global

scale. The plume no one escapes.

A 50-mile Evacuation Zone - here?

8-million people stuck in that Zone - here?

An old nuke-facility, sitting on fault lines, 

vulnerable to tsunami, and god knows

what else is worth shouting about.

A protest decades overdue.

SONGS' aged nuke-clock is ticking 

louder and louder, but waiting until the 

final alarm screams - "Evacuate Now!"

before shutting SONGS down, is too late. 

And "too-late" in nuke-lingo, is as they 

say, "all she wrote."

Apparently Chernobyl, 3-Mile Island and 

Fukushima haven't opened enough sleepy 

eyes and ears, to SONGS' deadly tune: 

nuclear meltdown never stops melting, ever.

We've gotten our wake-up call.

It's spelled F  u  k  u  s  h  i  m  a. 

Will we wake in time to flip SONGS' 

nuclear-switch to OFF?

Japan didn't.

tick, tick, tick, tick, tick...

jerry collamer

San Clemente

Ca - 92672