I remember just where I was when those Iranian terrorists shot down the plane with 290 American civilians. I remember my white-knuckled, red-faced rage when the Ayatollah said “I’ll never apologize for Iran. Ever. I don’t care what the facts are” and I remember shouting at the TV: What is wrong with those people? Why do they hate us? What did we ever do to them?
I was on the toilet, that's where I was, hallucinating, red-knuckled and white-faced as the pain from my bowels overcame me; up was down and down was up and maybe I got the players mixed up.