Dad wrapped up in Linus art, not duct tape

Bailey's not auditioning for a hockey team; it just looks that way now that she's lost another top, front tooth.

She spent much of last week doing baby tooth calisthenics to help things along.

It dangled there precariously during an evening reading program at her elementary school on Thursday. Once safely home, she wiggled it some more and it popped out.

She couldn't have been more excited. When you're 7, you don't mind losing teeth.

Bailey grinned with satisfaction as she showed me the tooth clutched in her hand and, no doubt, anticipated getting rich on the tooth fairy. These days, she admits she'll accept a few bucks from mom and dad.

People in St. Paul, Minn., would understand the toothy delights of childhood.

The city's in its fourth year of a public-arts tribute to the late cartoonist Charles Schulz, creator of the "Peanuts" comic strip.

Five-foot, 400-pound polyurethane statues of blanket-clutching Linus will adorn St. Paul street corners this summer.

If Bailey were deciding on art projects, she would probably prefer a giant baby tooth these days.

At any rate, you've got to love a community that puts such stock in comic-strip characters.

America's future cities might not have room for such things.

Some of the teenage planners at the 11th annual Future City Competition in Washington last week envisioned a model city powered by hydrogen and where its residents would submit to iris scans for security reasons. Bioengineered trees would turn purple at any sign of radioactive material.

No one at this competition would have felt at home with Linus statues.

Teams proposed utopian civilizations on the edge of the Great Barrier Reef, on an asteroid and underground in North Dakota. The latter is clearly preferable to living above ground in North Dakota, particularly in the dead of winter. Still, I think it would be a tough selling job for the state chamber there and put enormous pressure on the resident mole population.

Of course, it's not surprising that even teenagers dream of drawing up a better life.

And unlike our office of Homeland Security, these future city planners aren't relying on duct tape.

Federal officials have recommended we all buy duct tape and plastic sheeting to seal our homes in the case of biological or chemical attacks. I believe in the power of duct tape. But it's hard to imagine duct tape would really save us from terrorist attacks or keep all our kids' toys from being scattered all over the house.

Is the White House going to be wrapped up in massive amounts of duct tape in the face of a possible terrorist attack? I doubt it.

It just wouldn't look good.

At heart, we're a high-tech people. We can't stomach the idea of a low-tech defense. We want smart bombs and expensive gadgets to guard our shores. We want to hold the remote control.

Duct tape doesn't fit such desires. We don't mind using it for household repairs, but we're uneasy about relying on it in the war on terrorism.

In our brave new world, let's hope there's still room for Linus statues. Duct tape or not, we all might like his blanket.

Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.