It seems to me that over the past few weeks there has been a sudden deluge of radio and TV ads courtesy of the Department of Homeland Security and The Red Cross. They are reminders of the essentials of disaster preparedness. What are we worried about here? A dirty bomb? Rouge waves? Tainted peanut butter? The upcoming switch to digital TV? Another glimpse at Paris Hilton's junk?
The real disaster would be me & the kids trapped in lock-down with Archie Bunker for an unspecified period of time. Crikey. What would he do? He'd have no Mexican workers to berate, and I expect that the cable would be out of service. He couldn't work on his memoirs because he wouldn't have anyone to transcribe the pearls of wisdom that would be leaking out of him like snot out of a toddler.
No matter how thorough our preparation, he'd eventually run out of salami and beer. He'd be so devastated when those basic supplies became depleted that I could probably trick him into going out into the Sarin gas laden air for a stock-up expedition. Then I could take the kids & snacks down to the extra-secret hiding place under the sidewalk and cleverly do some MacGyver shit with duct tape so he couldn't get in. I wouldn't feel guilty because he could take refuge in the garage where there are probably plenty of rodents he could eat and maybe he'd start cleaning; that would definitely signal the end of days.
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