Going Down the Prepper Rabbit Hole
Maybe I should reread Alice in Wonderland. I've read it multiple times, but never been that into it. During this coronavirus pandemic induced Stay-at-Home adventure, I’ve been fine staying at home, reading books, listening to records, playing dolls, etc. But I’m also worried about the world in general. I find myself going down the prepper rabbit hole. The other night I familiarized myself with terms like "Normalcy Bias” and "Bug Out Bag,” researched rain ponchos, emergency blankets, etc., tried to think what I really needed to include in an emergency evacuation first aid kit (am I ever really going to need a triangular bandage?), and on and on, etc., etc.
I wasn't worried about running out of Clorox wipes until I saw they’re prioritized for hospitals on Amazon and totally out of stock at Walgreens, Target, Walmart, Staples, etc.
My sister often says, “Our family is not surviving the zombie apocalypse.”
I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time on the ready.gov website, read all 204 pages of FEMA’s Are You Ready: An In-Depth Guide to Citizen Preparedness, even printed out the Prepare with Pedro Disaster Preparedness Activity Book featuring Pedro the Penguin and brought to you by the fine folks at FEMA and the American Red Cross.
For a while, way before the current pandemic, I’ve had the feeling that the world is going to total shit. Are lying politicians the reason I feel that way? Yes, but they’re not the only reason I’m worried. I think about whether or not Chicago is a good place to be. I think it is. I don’t worry about tornados or hurricanes, but then I think about the flooding and extreme temperatures. I think it’s better being in a city with lots of services and resources rather than stranded out in the middle of nowhere. I figure the city will be relatively well-managed compared to other places because of all the people with money here. (I know there are flaws in that reasoning, and then questions about whose interests and needs will be protected and served.) But then, according to some survivalist-minded people, Chicago is one of the most dangerous places in the nation, likely to fall into feral anarchy (not the good kind of anarchy) if “Shit Hits The Fan.” But maybe those people are wrong, biased because of their ideological predilections. Maybe it will be the good kind of anarchy, based on cooperation, mutual aid, and respect.
Getting ready for an emergency has been on my to-do list for a while. There’s the ready.gov website with lists for what you should have on hand in case of an emergency. I’m ready in some ways, stocked up on some things, but there’s more to do and it’s overwhelming, especially because it’s hard for me to imagine (with any kind of accuracy or probability) what kind of emergencies would happen and how they would play out. I can’t imagine that somehow the whole city of Chicago wouldn’t have water, electricity, internet, etc. But then again, stuff happens, and there’s a first time for everything, unless it’s something that could never happen or actually exist. Do I actually need a tool for chopping wood? Is chopping wood something I would ever do? I look out my window at the trees in the park. Is there a circumstance likely to occur in which I would need to be chopping off tree branches?
Events have happened that I don’t think about often because they haven’t happened recently, or they did and I got through them and forgot about them so I could just get on with life, such as it is: the Great Chicago Fire; the 1968 Illinois earthquake; gas shortages in the 1970s; the 1995 Chicago Heat Wave when all those people died; the North American blizzard of February of 2011 when the stores closed early because of snow, and cars on Lake Shore Drive got stuck in it; January 30th of 2019 when bars closed and shows were canceled because of the extreme cold, etc.
Why has getting prepared for an emergency stayed on my to-do list for so long? I usually prioritize things that are time-sensitive, that have to get done by a quickly approaching deadline, and things I do for other people. This isn’t something I’ve decided to do on a second order level. I know I should pay attention to long term projects and things I do for myself. I just notice, in observing myself, that I tend to prioritize the immediate, near-term tasks done for other people.
But also, items have to be researched and purchased. I don’t want to spend money on the wrong things, and it’s understandable that I prioritize purchasing those things I have an immediate need and use for over things I might need “just in case…”
But also, I prioritize doing things that are fun and make me happy. Contemplating all the possible terrible things that could happen, what I would need to do, and what accessories I would need to have, is not fun for me. Apparently it is fun for some people who enjoy thinking about fighting the elements, animals, and other human beings for survival, dirty and sweaty and armed with a gun and a machete. I’m not getting a gun or a machete. I don’t know how to use those things, and I’m worried I would hurt myself trying to learn.
Some people I know like to go camping. I don’t get it. I hate it. It seems like an inordinate amount of time, money, and effort spent just to be really uncomfortable. I went on a camping trip once when I was 15. It stands out as one of the most miserable experiences of my life. But maybe my friends who go camping have better survival skills than I do and know the best kind of gear to get.
Maybe what I really need for my Bug Out Bag emergency kit are suicide pills and alcohol to wash them down with. I wish I could buy those mini alcohol bottles that you get on airplanes in Chicago. Apparently a lethal dose of the preferred suicide drug of choice, secobarbital, is prohibitively expensive. Am I really going to spend $3,500 on something when I don’t know if I’ll ever need it, just in case? Will my health insurance cover suicide pills? Would my doctor even prescribe them? We totally need right to die posthaste.
(I don’t want to come across as insensitive, but this is my thought process. Federal, state, and city governmental agencies are telling each one of us that it’s our own individual responsibility to be prepared for all sorts of truly horrendous, practically unthinkable circumstances. We’re supposed to prepare to be dirty, uncomfortable, injured, hungry, and thirsty. If I’m in a situation where I’m being raped, threatened, tortured, and robbed, and I have to figure out how to chop wood, build fires, and tend to my own broken bones, only to get torn limb by limb and devoured by bears, or more likely, dogs, washing down pills with alcohol seems like a preferable option. I’m in my 50s. I’ve had some good times, but I’ve suffered enough. I’d like to have some control over my death in an uncontrollable world, a little death with dignity, s’il vous plait.)
I’m just frustrated with myself for not having all my various emergency kits and go-bags packed and ready to go already. And now I can’t even go to physical stores to browse, peruse, and ask salespeople for help. I’m doing what shopping I can online. But I think maybe I’m not the only one who doesn’t already have a battery-powered NOAA radio, emergency blankets, plastic sheeting, and all these other items everyone is supposed to have.
Some people buy very expensive bunkers to prepare themselves for these disaster situations, but I’m not those people. Let’s get real. If I did that, the bunker would need to come with its own robot staff to cook, clean, and do maintenance. I’m not roughing it.
