I hate the fact that I am less horrified than I was in April of 1999. On the 19thof that month, I spent the evening watching a Rockies game with fellow members of my academic department at the Air Force Academy. It was our yearly outing, and I was the guy in charge of setting things up. As I recall, there were a couple of big home runs, and the Rockies beat the Expos 11 to 10 in an excitingly close game. As I drove south on I-25 to Colorado Springs, I passed only a few miles from Columbine High School, where the next day the nation would be stunned, saddened, and horrified by a school shooting that would leave 13 dead, plus the shooters.