The “Dream Team”

Although it’s become passé, i’ve long been a fan of the Zombie Apocalypse as a practical metaphor for disaster preparedness. Even the stodgy Center for Disease Control built a zombie survival plan to better market the need to take a modicum of responsibility for your own sorry arse when the shit hits the fan…

As we spent time on the gun range recently, and caught up on “stuff”, The Boy appeared to be at least mildly impressed with my interest in shoring up my skills in the survival department.

Backpacking, SCUBA, motorcycling,  Now adding horseback riding lessons to the mix. Already a “one and a half banana” mechanic with machines, rudimentary plumbing and electrical wiring. A master with duct tape. Power tools (including chainsaws) do not intimidate me. i might actually be useful should the undead rise from the dirt.

It bothered me a bit – thinking about The Girl. The Boy is armed, rugged and ruthless. The Girl’s got an amazing brain, is a trained linguist, and has a powerful intellect…

Travel-wise? None better! She escaped a fight in a Turkish brothel, rode trains in India, took an impromptu trip down a Chinese river and survived seven hours on camel-back en route to the Great Pyramids – all before she was 20 years old.

As a kid, she was the least comfortable with our outdoor adventures, and wasn’t a fan of “roughing it”.  Will her Ninja-like travel skills be enough?

i really want her on the team.  “Survival of the Species” and all that shit. When genetic proliferation is at stake, i can’t exactly go back to the drawing board. My two existing spawn are all i’ve got to support my quest for DNA-based immortality.

Recounting my conversation with The Boy to Studley, as he drove us back from our horseback riding lessons, i remembered a moment from a few years back.  And found a glimmer of hope…

[sound bite signifying flashback goes here…]

It was 2004. i was battling mono. Passed out at home, with a fever of 105 F. The Girl was in town for a few days, and had borrowed my car to purchase art supplies from a warehouse in a rough part of town.

In a fever-ravaged haze, i picked up the phone as she called…

The Girl: I hit a curb when i went into the art supply house! I have a flat!

daisyfae: i have a fever and no car. Call the auto club. i can’t do a damn thing to help. Is there a spare tire?

The Girl: Let me check. I’ll call you back.

She called me back within ten minutes.

The Girl: Yes, there’s a spare. I called the auto club – they’ll be here in about an hour.

daisyfae: Wait in the store, or in the car if you don’t feel comfortable.  It’s getting dark.

The Girl: I’m fine. Some creepy dude asked me for change when I was looking for the spare. I told him to fuck off. “Can’t you see I’m having issues here?!?”

She’s on the team…

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34 thoughts on “The “Dream Team”

  1. With the genes you blessed them with, how could your offspring not be survivors? I think my only survival skills are that I am not spooked by spiders and I am a good improviser in the kitchen. Enough you think? Oh, and I am a swimmer.

  2. Awesome girl(s), you are. Want you on my team, I do. Bringing bad-ass survival snark is amazing.
    Talking like Yoda, means sleepy I am.
    Nite, DaisyFae. Don’t let the undead worry you….

    • you raise a good point.

      there. i said it. i’ll just let you have that for a moment.

      ok. but part of survival is knowing when to ‘do it yourself’ and knowing when to ‘rely on what else is out there’. but yeah, she probably wouldn’t know how to change the tiyre.

  3. Good gene pool you’ve got there. I’m with her on roughing it, though. My idea of roughing it is dial-up. I’d be useless in an zombie apocalypse. The only think I keep in my toolbox is a checkbook.

    Off topic: Our Blogfather becomes a British citizen today. Did you know!?

    • we could send you out front as the “scout” who makes noises and draws attention of the zombies while we make our escape. well… once, anyway.

      and yes…. been tracking ‘dad’s’ adventures! very cool!

  4. Why do people want to survive the zombie apocalypse? What’s the point? The life you had before the zombies is over. The world has become two groups: the hunters and the hunted. There’s no time to relax. You’re either running from the zombies, or you are a zombie. That’s no way to live. When the zombies come for me, I’m just going to suicide bomb them. Well, unless some sexy female zombies are in the horde. I may have to get some freaky zombie lovin’ first. “That’s right, moan for me bitch!” Then I blow ’em all to Hell with me.

    • although many perfectly wonderful folks would be gone early in the battles, there is something nice about a world where most of the stupid people would be obliterated. but the idea of going out in a blaze of exploding, rotting flesh is kinda sexy. part of my training, however, says “before you throw yourself on a grenade, make sure there’s someone around for you to save”.

  5. Take her to the range.
    Just in case. 🙂

    Me & my spawn will meet up with you & yours; i’m deadnuts accurate with a gun, power tools are my best friends, and I know how to field dress critters and clean fish.
    Well, unless they’re zombies …. then they just get their heads blown off.

  6. sounds like all the good roles have been taken. hmm…i could still take the “whining ninny” who gets thrown into the first pile of zombies by the rest of the team. or i could be the “brave coward” who talks a great game, but is the first to throw the “whining ninny” into the zombie crowd. or, probably best for me, is the “comedic sidekick” who keeps saying bad puns to lighten the mood at just the right time! are you taking applications?

    • you overlook something pretty important – you can fly a fucking plane! helloooo? with the emerging news that zombies can live underwater, flying is going to be a seriously important skill. we’ll just need to find a reliable aviation mechanic…

      oh, and leave the puns. that’ll get you tossed into the hoardes of the undead!

    • You’ve got quite a tribe! Adding Jesse’s wife to the mix, too! The ‘gardening’ part would be pretty important, long-term. i’m more into the ‘survive the assault’ part. i’ll leave the rebuilding to those with real skills….

    • you’re on the team. not just because of your martial arts skills… someone has to be there to envision the world as it should be upon reconstruction. and i happen to be fond of ‘renal failure’s neighborhood’.

  7. Survive to what though, more of mediocrity ? I suppose I’d have a big target painted on my roof w/ a note reading DROP IT HERE, while sitting on a lawn chair with chips & salsa and malt liquor … just me

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