Anthrax and practical jokes

Humor depends a great deal on timing. But sometimes, no matter how perfect the timing is, only the perpetrator is amused. That was the case of James Larsen of Littleton, Colo. He put a bit of white laundry detergent in an envelope, and left it, anonymously, at his co-workers apartment complex.
In light of the news from New York City and Washington, D.C., of envelopes sent, filled with a white powder containing anthrax spores and the subsequent infection of office workers, his co-workers called local authorities. Larsen was tracked down as the originator of the envelope. He was arrested for menacing and harassment.
Larsen’s humor was not appreciated. Colorado authorities have been flooded with reports of suspicious mail or powdery substances – none were dangerous.
Larsen probably chortled with glee as he set up that joke, but it was too close to the fearfully, destructive, current reality to be shrugged off as innocent fun. I saw a similar practical joke take place a few years ago as I shopped in an area store. Just inside the glass front is a check-out counter. Clerks’ backs are to the window wall as they ring up purchases. Customers parked right outside the window until the day a car brake slipped and the car crashed through the window into the shop.
Shortly after the window had been repaired, I dashed by the shop to pick up something after work. I was checking out when a jerk, his engine roaring, drove clear up to the window and parked inches away from the glass. The clerk jumped out of the way of the noise behind her.
The practical jokester came in guffawing at the scowling clerk. He had made her jump. He thought he was so funny. She did not laugh his joke away – it was too close to her reality. One time is too much, but knowing the propensity for jokesters to replicate each other’s stupidity, perhaps there were other “near incidents.”
Maybe that one time was enough to change things, after the original accident. All I know is this: The next time I went to the shop, a heavy metal guard rail had been installed a couple feet away from the window.
The practical jokes and potential for slipped brakes to threaten the lives of the clerks were over. The rail wasn’t very high, but the low, heavy metal pipes provided an effective stopping point to any car edging towards the building under control or out of it. The clerks relaxed inside their rail of safety and the shop returned to normal, except I could not longer simply dash in from my car. I had to walk around the railing.
Across the country a similar response is emerging in these stressful times after the terrorists attacks of Sept. 11 and anthrax filled envelopes. Extraordinary safety precautionary measures are slowly being installed and instituted as the government, airlines, post offices, mail room employees and many others rethink their work routines and offices. “Metal guard rails” are being installed around businesses across the country.
Unfortunately part of the reason the guard rails are going up is not just to ward off terrorists’ dangerous acts, but also to block the actions of those who think it is funny to fake replicating a truly, terrifying situation.