Killer Peanuts: Proving One More Time A Black Man Was Wrong

This past Thursday through Sunday I traveled to Denver to help crew the Breast Cancer 3 Day Walk. It was a nice and unexpectedly enjoyable break from the drain of everyday life. Although I was forced to give up on luxuries like flushable toilets, alcohol, smoking, television, internet, and the Cubs (the last I honestly didn't miss that much), I did get to spend a few days with some pretty remarkable women getting together to support a good cause. It was a little like I would imagine Lillith Fair to be like (I spent 3 days around 700 women, often in different stages of undress and still did not touch one boob) except the crowd was a little older and less hippy.But that's not what I'm here to write about. Before the plane ride home as the flight bitches (that's the PC term right?) were giving there usual safety shpeel, they included one little nugget that sent me off like Milton Bradley on a close called strike three. Apparently someone on the plane had a peanut allerg...