Call Me A Wuss on Doomsday

The local news just had a story about how survival kits and guns were flying off the shelves as people prepared for (this year’s version of) Doomsday, 12/12/12. People, a world where I have to homestead with a tent kit is one which I do not wish to survive.

First of all, I don’t do well when the power is out for even a short while. Although I grow a few containers of herbs, I have never been able to produce a tomato for less than one costs in an appetizer at Hot n Hot Fish Club. A neighbor and I back each other up for the occasional cup of sugar, but we’re hardly prepared for an apocalyptic event.

It’s one thing to be ready for an emergency, but these Doomsday people are crazy. A stockpile of powdered meals with a 25 year shelf life that require only water (oops, do we have enough of that?) doesn’t inspire hope for a future, even if you’re one of the few survivors. I get depressed just looking in the pantry some evenings; I can only imagine how staring down into a bucket of mylar packets would bring on the blues. And hey, we would be one of the lucky ones! We could start over in a tent on the barren land and congratulate ourselves on all that foresight.

I don’t get how guns fit into the last days equation, either. Is the theory that you would survive some sort of nuclear meltdown only to shoot the other human survivor over the last powdered meal? Unless he/she draws first and shoots you? It would be a mercy at that point.

I say, quit spending money on long-term survival packages. Do you really want to work that hard to be around for a post-doomsday world? Stop worrying and leave the spoils to the cockroaches.