Column: My zombie apocalypse teamI take friends as they come. Mom friends, reading friends, school friends … I want everybody to be my friend! But this summer has me contemplating the qualities of my friends.
I take friends as they come. Mom friends, reading friends, school friends … I want everybody to be my friend! But this summer has me contemplating the qualities of my friends.
Because I have teenage sons I live in cultural fads, and the movies and conversations of this last summer focused on zombies.
Maybe at your house you talk about your dreams for the future. At our house we talk about what guns we’d have during the zombie apocalypse (M-16, Skaar). What kind of vehicle? (Garbage truck.) Where to fight? (The woods.)
Then this question came up — if the zombie apocalypse were to happen next week, whom of my local acquaintances would I gather as my own survival team?
It has made me look at my friendships differently.
My first choice would be Randy. Randy isn’t a CEO or a prosperous businessman. Randy is a delivery truck driver with a keen wit and an incredible mechanical aptitude. When my husband has an idea, but there is no tool to make his idea a reality, he goes to Randy.
They begin a conversation which involves laughing and personal insults. A week later a prototype invention shows up at our house. Prime apocalypse staff.
I can’t separate people from their families so I’d be happy to choose Randy’s wife. She isn’t an evil genius. She is steady, calm, sensible and pleasant. She is cool under pressure and knows how to coordinate people in stressful situations. We must have her.
My son’s choice would be our friend Bob, who is a police officer.
The reasons are obvious. Bob is tough and strong and owns deadly weapons. He’s on the SWAT team. He suits up and chases bad guys for a living. Of course he gets to be on the apocalypse team.
If we get Bob, we get Melissa, his wife and my dear friend. She could shoot a zombie if the situation arose, but she would come along for comedy release and ability to make any situation into a party.
Dead guys eating our brains out might be a bit of a challenge. But I’ve seen this lady make a party out of cleaning supply displays. She also is a registered nurse and a great cook. All bonuses.
My other choice for the apocalypse team is my neighbors the Curnows. Bill is an electrician. The control of electrical power is key in any societal breakdown, and this guy can source the juice. Plus he can keep everybody laughing while doing it.
Bill’s wife is a physician’s assistant, knowledgeable in natural remedies
and a terrific problem-solver.
Their teenage sons are in for sure because of their strength and quick thinking. I’ve seen one of their sons fight a hawk off of their pet chicken with his bare hands. He was only 13!
So this has brought up a haunting question. What asset do I bring to the table?
I have a degree in English. I can diagram sentences and write. I’m a great reader, so if anything comes up like emergency reading … I’m all over that. I can write and read Latin.
Now I haven’t noticed zombies speaking Latin in any of the movies, but that’s because the people who write the scripts don’t know Latin. I’m positive that in reality if zombies speak anything, it’d be Latin.
Latin is a dead language. If anything is to be resolved with zombies it will take communication, and I’ll be there to do the translating (assuming they will be talking about Cicero and Catullus).
Maybe I need to gain some skills.
Maybe I should stop joining book clubs and take that target shooting course, learn how to preserve food, watch more zombie movies so I can outsmart the brainless ones.
I for sure need to stop whining and complaining about the little stuff. It’s the whiners in the movies who come to the most-blood-splattering end.
The more I think about it, the more friends I can think of whom I want next to me during a time of crisis. Putterers, doers, thinkers, befrienders, strategists, runners. I need to be more like my friends so I don’t get kicked out!
I was grilling my 12-year-old, Daniel, about which guns to include in this article. “It’s not so much which guns we use,” he said. “What’s important is that everybody have a different gun and everybody work as a team. Everybody has to use his own skill. That’s how you defeat
Monthly Budgeteer columnist S.E. Livingston is a wife, mother and teacher who writes for family and education newsletters in northern Minnesota. E-mail her at firstname.lastname@example.org.