Any time the world is quiet, residential streets empty of cars and pedestrians, my mind goes directly to the End of the World, a game I played as a child.
Gosh, how much fun must I have been as a kid, huh?!
I was a worried and serious child and have grown into a worried albeit silly adult. And honestly, if I had my druthers – and you know I’ve been working all my life on developing my druthers – I’m glad it worked out like that.
Every day I enjoy the fact that it all started out a bit worrisome but has turned out to be a lot of fun.
In other words, I’m silly; but I pay my bills.
So it was not unusual for me that today, a Monday on the week prior to a three-day weekend, was an End of the World scenario. Am I the only one working in the U.S. today? Everywhere, people with vacation time are tacking on to the approaching holiday weekend. I walked to the bus stop down the middle of the street, no one to stop me. I crossed against the lights. I waited for the bus for 10 minutes and saw only a handful of cars. Even now, as I’m sitting here on the bus at 7:20 in the a.m., delightfully geek-ish and taking notes, there are only nine people with me, and two of them appear to be asleep.
Or dead. It is the End of the World scenario, after all.
Being alone has always had a strange effect on me; and in no time at all, in my mind I have gone from a bus on a deserted street to being on a transport vehicle carrying the only survivors of a global plague. A sweeping viral infection has circled the globe in a three-week period...
I surveyed the bus.
So this is what we have to work with.
The world is in trouble, ladies and gentlemen. None of these people – myself included – look like they’re up to the challenge of birthing a new civilization.
In light of the need to be practical in this practically ridiculous scenario, I have taken stock of myself; and I think you’ll be as surprised as I was to discover that I am going to be of no help whatsoever:
I know how to milk a cow, but I’d rather not.
I would not trust me to set your broken bones, help you deliver your baby, or pull one of your teeth.
I don’t know how to repair any kind of engine.
I can’t remember if the cure for a snake bite is sucking the poison out of it or peeing on it. I know that peeing on something is a cure for something… You kinda hate to be wrong about this sort of thing, but I think if we’ve already descended to the level of peeing on things that it won’t be the biggest of your worries.
I have never built a structure of any kind and am still confused as to how roofs remain roof-like.
Of course, this does not mean I am entirely without skills. Why, I know how to roll my own cigarettes, can both knit and crochet, and am quite good at conveying ideas via pantomime.
So if we need to take a smoke break under a pile of hippie-style scarves with, say, Albanian immigrants, you’ll want me there.
I could go on and on, but I think I’ve made my point.
Thank goodness we’re all perfectly safe, huh?
2 hours ago