I suppose you could blame it on my parents. Dad went to a military prep school then into the Coast Guard. Mom was one of those practical Yankees. They were prepared for any and everything. Ice storms, hurricanes, broken ankles, you name it they had it covered.
I would like to think I inherited the best parts of them both.
My time as a disaster specialist with the Red Cross contributed to this condition/phobia as well.
Sometimes it drives me a little mad.
“We all go a little mad every now and then” Norman Bates once said.
I try to prepare for everything I can think of. I live in
And don’t even think of coming down my street with designs of stealing my TV. Without revealing any specifics, let’s just say we have substantial firepower to thwart any looters with nefarious thoughts. We could probably repel a small invading country.
Some of my neighbors haven’t even bought a candle. They leave their crap in the front yard even though one hundred mile per hour winds are forecast and sit outside swilling Budweiser while everything falls to pieces around them.
Remember the story about the boy who cried wolf? Do you remember what happened to all the people who heeded his every warning and ran inside to protect themselves?
Nothing, nothing at all. They all survived and lived to tell the story.
There are times I wish the disasters I have prepared for all my life would actually happen. Sure it’s a sick thought, but just once I would like all those dumbasses who laughed at me and drank beer while I prepared to learn a lesson or two.
And I wish the state of
But oh how nice it would feel to be sipping on a frozen margarita in my nice air conditioned house, with the lights on and a washing machine full of clean underwear, machine gun at my side, while my smartass redneck looser neighbors stand in line for a bag of ice and a gallon of water from the National Guard truck.
It is a dream I have………….
