This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

I received an emergency call for ammunition from Judge Memorial High School last week. It came as a complete surprise. I didn't know high schools taught artillery now.

Dr. Dasch Houdeshel, JMHS's principal artillerist, emailed me to say his students desperately needed 10 cannonballs to destroy some concrete pillars. Could I help him out?

At first I wasn't sure. I have 235 cannonballs in my backyard. It sounds like a lot, but this is just the basic ammo load for a prepared homeowner. Could I really afford to part with some? What if the zombie apocalypse happened tomorrow?

I'd like to say patriotism and compassion were the deciding factors, but it was actually my wife.

"You take that nice man as many of those stupid bowling balls as he wants. They're full of dead spiders. Do it right now!"

I loaded them in my truck. But because I tend to think more deeply on these subjects than my wife, I checked Dr. Dasch out first. I didn't want to find out later that he's part of some Catholic militia or terror group.

Houdeshel is a highly educated man. He has a doctoral degree in civil and environmental engineering. This is impressive stuff to people like me who were only let out of high school because the military draft was in full swing.

While I didn't see anything that specifically pertained to artillery, I could see where engineering knowledge could come in handy if there were zombies trapped in a building.

Driving over to Judge, I had to admit feeling a little jealous. Where would I be today if I'd had a cool teacher like Dr. Dasch in high school, someone willing to teach me what I wanted to know as opposed to what they thought I should?

Truthfully, it's past time that American high schools started teaching students useful skills like primitive ballistics. This is stuff they need to know.

How else will future generations be able to challenge ISIS, Congress or some other form of zombie if they don't know how to make average consumer products reach speeds capable of inflicting mortal wounds?

Think about it. Eventually we're going to run out of military munitions and will need to rely on our wits. Do you know how many zombies a can of furniture polish will go through? If you don't, your kids and grandkids and America are in trouble.

Answer: Six. Sonny and I tried it on some store mannequins. But since mannequins don't have durable parts like skulls, ribs and spines, we had to fudge the math a bit. So six. Maybe seven.

Never mind that. When I arrived at Judge, the front door was locked. I had to wait for someone to buzz me inside. I admired the security. You don't want elected officials to just come waltzing through the door of a school.

While I waited, I reread Dr. Dasch's emails. I learned then that he needed the bowling balls to test the structural resilience of concrete beams his engineering class had built.

Dr. Dasch: "How high can you drop a bowling ball without breaking it? From my Youtube research, it appears that a 5-foot drop will not break a bowling ball, but three stories will. We will have 10 concrete beams [to break]."

It isn't shooting, but it's still an effort worthy of study. What if we run out of gunpowder? The way things are going in the political primaries, it very well could come down to dropping bowling balls on zombies.

Robert Kirby can be reached at rkirby@sltrib.com or facebook.com/stillnotpatbagley.