It was the year 1956. The Americans had just entered the Cold War with guns blazing like a tiger on crack, and since the war was fought primarily in Siberia it certainly lived up to its name. Special guns were designed with triggers that could be pulled by mittened hands, and there were "fur drives" throughout the country to keep our boys warm.
Even the first lady gave up her long mink stole so some WAC could sleep the night without fear of waking up with his eyelids stuck together, or in the year 3600 by scientists asking nosy questions, wanting cheek swabs and putting him on display in a museum or worse, bringing him on a lecture tour.
Yes, these were tough time, roll-up-your-sleeves, hike-up-your-skirts and get-to-work times, kill-a-deer-for-GI-Joe times, but most of all stop-making-snow-angels-and-get-back-to-shoveling times, and though most of the fur-bearing animals in North America were extinct by Christmas, we had showed those Russkies what-for, and the children slept soundly in their beds under leather blankets, their bellies stuffed tight with exotic meats.