It was the 1980s and the absolute height of the inter-continental political phenomenon known as the Cold War. The Berlin Wall was still in place and we, as a nation, we're unaware that the U.S.S.R. was on the verge of collapse while America continued to play catch, to ride the school bus, to pack sandwiches for lunch.
It was 1987 and I was a tiny-baby ginger. I was living in suburban Phoenix and i was absolutely terrified of the Ruskies.
I would have a recurring dream, the only one I can remember, where I would wake up to a ruckus in front of my house. I would look outside my bedroom window and see tanks rolling into my cul-de-sac. As I brushed the sleep from my tiny-baby Ginger eyes I would focus on the writing painted on the exterior of the tank, it was not our own, it was Russian.
I was fucking scared and it had more than a little to do with this popular teen film.
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made by goths in the desert
