The bars are closed, but the booze is flowing freely in hunkered-down American households.
So is the Netflix, and apparently, so is the legal weed (and illegal, too – let’s not kid ourselves).
Even sports, the true opiate of the American masses, has gotten into the stay-at-home act by broadcasting classic games with athletic seasons postponed or canceled outright. Having grown up with the 1985 Chicago Bears and the Bulls under the reign of His Airness, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted during the little free time I have to turn on, tune in and drop out.
Now this is the way to live through a disaster, by golly! That is, unless you’re one of the millions of newly-unemployed Americans worrying right now about what they’re going to feed their kids now that the government has made it illegal for them to work by executive fiat. But hey – who has time to think about those poor souls while we’re posting pictures of our fully-stocked man caves on Facebook, right?
Kids, this disaster is a one-in-a-billion anomaly. I promise you that the next one you and your family will have to endure won’t include streaming Star Trek: Picard, margaritas, Chinese take-out, or re-living Super Bowl LI while getting blasted on edibles.
Your plan for the next disaster absolutely, positively, has to include a life without alcohol, drugs, caffeine or any of the other relaxers and distractions on which we now rely.
Just Say No
This is a photo of my happiness machine. Every morning, I brew myself a quintuple espresso. That’s not a typo—five shots. In the afternoon, I have a quadruple to get through the rest of the day, given that I literally get less sleep running my household than I did in basic training.
If the you-know-what hits the fan, my wife and I have a plan to cut back to one of our big-ass cups a day for a week. Then cut back to three shots for a week. Then two, then one, then none.
This is for a very good reason. If you want to simulate what it’s like for a heavy coffee drinker to go cold turkey, lie down on the floor and ask a friend or loved one to drive a railroad spike right through the center of your forehead. That’s no way to spend the first few days of Armageddon.
This Is Not the Norm
The moral of the story? Be prepared to go without the pacifiers on which so many Americans are dependent. I wrote in this post about the need for books and games to keep you, and especially children, occupied. If you have monkeys on your back – alcohol, tobacco, Internet pornography, whatever – now is the time to shoo them off.
And you need to absolutely, positively start building up your supplies of food, water, medical and other supplies so you can provide for your family for the next disaster.
I can’t say this plain enough – having practically unfettered access to fuel, food, infrastructure and vices is NOT the norm in a disaster. Ask anyone who endured the aftermath of the Joplin tornado, Hurricane Katrina, the Loma Prieta earthquake, and so on.
That’s the norm.