Anyhow, the topic of Armageddon arose today at work and I realized that should it arrive – me and my imaginary children would surely be screwed – especially if they inherit my sense of direction or inability to construct IKEA furniture. I am flashing back to a memory of me in high school driving to visit my grandparents in Quincy from Andover – a distance of maybe 30 miles and a drive that does not require changing freeways and one I had probably done a thousand times with my parents beforehand.
Nevertheless, I wound up stranded in Roxbury, without gas, a dollar to my name and a cell phone running on nothing. I had just enough time to call my family and ask for directions. Our conversation went something like this:
Me: I’m lost.
Dad: No kidding. What street are you on?
Me: There are no signs.
Dad: What town are you in?
Me: No clue.
Dad: What’s around you?
Me: Brueggar’s bagel bakery. Come find me.
Somehow, they did. It pays having an uncle who’s a cop in the Boston area and pretty much knew exactly where every Brueggar’s bakery in the vicinity was.
I also came to the conclusion that my only way into one of the underground bunkers I am certain exists somewhere in Arizona is by lottery. When push comes to survival, my crepe making skills and charming sense of humor likely do not trump serious contenders like doctors, trash collectors or mechanics. Right now I am on par with magicians who perform at children’s birthday parties.
My dear friend Ryan says I shouldn’t depend on the government for making preparations. “Besides, I don’t like my fate being left in the hands of some moron voted into their position by people with the average readership of a 3rd grade child,” he said.
And after witnessing how inept the people at the DMV are I see his point.
Ryan says my Viking heritage would likely kick in and we would be among the survivors. But I harbor serious doubts. Simple tools we could handle. But the moment someone discovered how to upgrade we would be left in the dust. I just have images of me and my children sitting there trying to bang rocks together hoping to make a fire. Meanwhile, the food would spoil and we would all die of salmonella poisoning. I just figured out how to turn on the television at my own home last week – I have a lot of catching up to do.