I don’t usually go in for post-apocalyptic entertainment. Well, I used to, but since becoming a mother, I just can’t go there. Too much suffering and not enough hope. I certainly wasn’t going to get involved in “The Walking Dead” – even though it is zombies, and really, I do like a good zombie flick. Zombies aren’t scary; they’re kinda loveable in a black & white/bad make-up/slow moving kind of way. (I stand by this, because it’s exactly what I’m like first thing in the morning.) So when Jeff said “Let’s try ‘The Walking Dead’. We can stream the first season,” I objected. Then relented. Then objected.
“Oh come on – it’s *zombies*.”
“Yeah, I know, but … “
“I hear it’s really well done.”
“I know, but …”
“What? Are you scared?”
“No! Oh all right, get it started & I’ll be right in.”
Needless to say, I was riveted. I was riveted, but it bothered me. The end of the first episode bothered me, because the choice of the guy handcuffed (I’m trying not to spoil anything in case you watch it for yourself) made no sense to me. He had a hacksaw. His logic eludes me still. Anyway, it bothered me such that I immediately looked up the comic and did some research. That bothered me even more.
“I just did some reading and there is NO WAY I am watching this anymore.”
“Oh come on! It was so well done! I can’t wait to watch another one tomorrow night.”
“No way. You can watch it downstairs. I’m not doing it.”
“Why? You love Zombies! -and those were good zombies”
“It’s not the zombies. It’s the people. Do you want me to tell you what happens, because -“
“There is no hope in this series. You think there is, but there isn’t. I’m a nursing mother. I can’t go there.”
I told everyone that I could think of that I wasn’t watching it. I knew what was going to happen & I just couldn’t go there. I said these things, then would “read” in the same room Jeff was watching, eyes mostly glued to the screen & “reading” the same sentence over and over again. Finally, I gave up and admitted that I was hooked.
I desperately want to talk about Sunday’s episode, but won’t. You know – just in case you haven’t watched it yet. But I will say that I have become obsessed with thinking about what I would do if this sort of thing ever happened. Yeah, I know, I’m a lunatic. But what *if* something like this – some other sort of apocalypse happened. So I found myself researching how to make sugar. I figure in this climate (mid-atlantic), I’d probably have to go with sugar beets. I kid you not, I spent at least an hour researching the sugar making process. I figured that sugar would be something I could barter with. I’ve decided I should plant witch hazel. I revisited the idea of buying chickens for the backyard (I tried to sell Jeff on the idea of backyard chickens a few months prior – unsuccessfully). I stepped up my knitting skills, and decided that I’d probably need to round up some alpaca and start breeding those, since The Muffin can’t wear wool, and I suspect we couldn’t grow cotton since I never see it grown anywhere nearby. Then I realized that I was going to need WAY more space than our little teeny backyard & hatched an escape plan to my parents’ house. I asked my parents how they’d feel if I showed up with fruit trees one day. I tried making sandwich bread from scratch. (It was awful, but I shall try again.) I toyed with the idea of bee-keeping. For the wax. To make candles. From scratch. Then decided this is probably a bad idea since I think I’m allergic to bees. This year’s Christmas list includes “DIY” books (since there will be no electricity to power the computer), and a bow and arrow (Daryl is my favorite character ;).
Now, before you grab the phone to have me committed (too late, right), these things run through my mind, but I promise, I am firmly rooted in reality. In fact, my eyes have been opened to just how incredible modern civilization is. I have taken for granted just how much we all rely on each other for the the simplest of things. Just flipping on a light involves an incredible number of people. The manufacturing of electricity, the wires laid to bring the electricity to me, the people who built the house, those responsible for the plastic of the switch, the building of the “guts” of the switch, the faceplate – and the mining of the ore to make the metal that the faceplate was made of, the creation of the glass for the light bulb – it just goes on and on. Thinking about how I’d survive on my own, has made me realize how INCREDIBLE it is that we are all so seemlessly connected and so totally reliant on each other. It makes me appreciate every tiny little aspect of my day. I marvel at how easy I have it. I revel in the simplicity of my life, and the health and safety of my family. I couldn’t be more grateful for my life – and the fact that I’ve been inspired to learn to do more things for myself.
All this from a zombie show.