Playbill
March, 1974
It's not with particularly warm nostalgia that we glance back on those most paranoid of times when every bore and his brother-in-law were forever discussing The Bomb. For those of us who grew up in the atomic age, The Bomb meant crouching ostrich like in school basements with our heads nearly up our asses a waiting either the apocalypse or the sound of a whistle. Over the years since then, we've become hardened, and what with all the other traumas of the Sixties and Seventies, there hasn't been...
