Paranoia strikes deep.

Somehow I've made it this far in life without investing in pepper spray, jujitsu lessons, or Mace. But because I've heard there are sometimes prowlers in college dorms, and because at my age nature calls in the middle of the night and the bathroom will be down the hall, I decided to get a "personal alarm."

The only place in town I could find one today was at Mickey's Army-Navy Surplus in Kansas City, Kansas.











If you have never shopped at Mickey's, it's worth a field trip. I was in a bit of a rush, but in the short time I was there I saw Army canteens and first aid kits, about 500 different kinds of bandanas, a lovely assortment of knives, Skittles, ice cream sandwiches, compasses, sew-on military patches, several kinds of veterans' ball caps, and (this was difficult to pass up) a counter-top display featuring the new book "How to Have Sex in the Woods."

The alarm cost me $10, which included a demo by the cashier. This sucker is loud, like a smoke alarm. Yet it fits conveniently in the palm of my hand. It could either save my life or get stuck in the "on" position (like it did today) and inspire hatred in my new dorm friends.

Here's the packaging. The alarm has many features and benefits (click to view). Assailants hate these things. So does my dog.



I doubt I'll ever need to use it, but I'll feel safer having it tucked into the pocket of my awesome Maxine bathrobe.

Some people seem to think I'm already gone. I am not gone, I am just away. I will be gone as of Thursday morning.