8-14-2003 - NEVAR FORGET!!!
So I had some friends over, we drank up the beer while it was still cold, we smoked some dope, we ate everything in the fridge, and took turns using the alley as a urinal. It was primitive, dirty, dark, and a little unnerving, but it was also kind of fun. Those of us with car stereos knew that it wasn't a terrorist attack and that power would be restored shortly (just in time for MONDAY am I right girls? Oh, you don't have to be crazy to work here, but it helps ha ha ha) so we just kicked back and got by, watching the stars, listening to the crickets, and stubbing our toes on every piece of furniture in the house since none of us thought to check the batteries in our flashlights.
But while 3 days was nice, anything longer would honestly have been inconvenient to say the least. Despite the powers that be keeping quiet on the whole thing, there was some looting in Detroit, and elsewhere I'm sure. While I have said before that I keep a shotgun handy, that same shotgun wasn't going to be a big help in getting fresh water or food, or in finding out if my friends and family were okay short of turning to a life of crime (which, of course, would be a perfectly viable option on day 10).
The 2003 blackout made everyone ask a lot of questions about their own preparedness for emergencies, and I can't think of anyone who didn't in some way come up lacking. In Detroit we got caught with no water, very little food, no electricity, one gun, and one non-functional flashlight. It's like a zombie movie, except without the wholesale slaughter of reanimated loved ones.
But...but Mittens, it's ME, your mum-mums!
And I find that as more and more time passes, most people I know are prepared less and less. No water stores, no MRE's, no generator, no flashlight. It's like all we remember is the fun little three day vacation, and we've forgotten that we all had to go in the yard like dogs.
Somebody, somewhere, is masturbating to that.
Well, frankly, I remember this inconvenience because garden season is coming up. For the last 3 years I have not had a garden because I lived in the goddamn desert, but now that I'm back where the dirt is black and the leaves are green, I damn well mean to start one. Tomatoes, squash, peppers, potatoes, carrots - a nice little parcel of produce.
Can you guess when I started gardening? You're mostly right if you said 2004 - I did have a flower garden (girlfriend's idea) in 2003. But the one thing I knew I could do was grow food out of the ground, and if there's nothing else you can do in a blackout scenario, well, you could be worse off.
In England, they're called "chavs," and it's not a nice thing to say.
What I mean to do over the next few blogs (exempting Monday's UAFNWFSUTGI) is to create a mini ten-ish page survival handbook.
You're not going to learn how to turn your own pee into Crystal Light, nor will you learn how to skin, gut, and prepare your pets. I am making a survival guide for the domestic survivalist, the person who likes civilization and creature comforts, the person who would enjoy a little break from the world as he or she waits for the power to come back on, but wants to be ready if it doesn't.
Think of this as a survival guide for the suburbs, or rather, for the suburbanite - because if there's one thing a suburbanite can do, it's buy things.
To that end, I will cover important elements of survival in a breakdown / blackout / revolution scenario going from the most vital to the most indulgent by covering what you can buy, make, and have ready ahead of time that won't require any special skills and won't make you look like some sort of gold-hoarding Luddite sitting in a cave with a big chubber for the End of Days.
God, just pick one. Jokes like this take more effort than they're worth.
This is going to be a learn-as-we go process. I'm not claiming any sort of authority beyond good horse sense and a great reluctance to die, so the data in this blog will generally pop up the day after I learn it.
We'll start today by talking about the most important thing you need to live: Air
If your air is gone, you're fucked. If your air is poisoned, you're fucked. The last thing you should worry about is the first thing you need, because honestly there is not a whole hell of a lot you can do about it.
Gas masks work if they fit, if the filter is not expired, and if you are wearing one at the time of the introduction of an airborne agent. This is not going to happen, because you are probably napping in a hammock in the back yard, or hosting a cocktail party. If you do own a gas mask, or are interested in picking one up, then you are probably already in the advanced survival class and there's not much I'm going to teach you.
If the terrarz or the fascists or the blackocratic jewosexuals or whoever you think is going to "get" you hit you with an airborne agent, well, you're probably going to die. That's the first thing to remember about survival - if someone really wants to get you, they're going to get you. It's something we learned back in the 80's: in the 50's they had a lot of civic defense videos and duck-and-cover bullshit, but by the time I was born we knew it was feel-good crap. If the Russkies hit the button, you wouldn't even know, and that's how we learned to stare down the threat of thermonuclear war.
I will use any excuse to show this picture.
Long story short, if you don't have air, you die, and there's not much to be done about it.
Thankfully, gassing people is F'ing hard. Do you know how much air there is around you? Billions and billions and billions of gallons! If there's a chemical fire up the street and you get a whiff of it, you know what's gonna happen? Not a goddamn thing. Unless someone is launching a VX rocket at your house, the only way to really suffer an airborne chem attack is to be in an enclosed space when the substance is released (think of the Tokyo sarin attack of 1995).
To that end, your best bet is to always have a way out - know the exits, know where you could get fresh air. Remember that fresh air in this context doesn't necessarily mean dryer sheets, spring meadows, or unicorn farts - it means air that isn't going to kill you. This might mean sucking in the ghastly stink of the NYC subway tunnel. It's a lot better than mustard gas, so long as the C.H.U.D.S. don't get you.
Know your escape routes.
So to recap:
Air - very important to live. Not a lot you can do about it. When in an enclosed space, know a way out. Stinky nasty air is still fresh air in the case of toxic airborne agents. The best defense against air contamination is escape. Nothing in this blog is going to help you deal with ABC agents, chemical fires, or asbestos-laden industrial fallout.
On a parting note, forget the duct tape and trash bags. If it's gas, the barrier won't do anything. If it's dust and debris, put a damp rag over your mouth and get away fast. I'm pretty sure it's not even possible to make an airtight seal with cellophane and duct tape, and even if you could, well, congratulations - you have just hermetically sealed your own coffin.
At least you'll be busy as you die.
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