How to Survive the End of the World

A guide.

I enjoyed a 20-some year career in politics before losing my mind and going off into the wild (though not off the grid — I still can’t do chemical toilets no matter how many campaign bus bathrooms I’ve used — and I’ve never really been concerned about preparing the end of the world, at lest until I had kids.

You see, I had a plan. In a zombie apocalypse, I was absolutely committed to being bitten first. I love horror movies, especially 70s slasher flicks, and the only people who ever have fun at the end of the world are the undead. Get bitten first, and you don’t have to worry about eating your neighbor or being selected for the Thunderdome. You just happily shuffle the earth looking for brains.

As a Catholic, I even had a plan to transition this commitment to sainthood — plague martyrdom. Care for the sick, selflessly and knowing you will one day die of whatever it is that’s making their limbs degrade, bring them to the light of Christ and then perish yourself. You still get to be a zombie, and you get a one-way ticket to heaven (though I suppose laying this plan out shades the dynamic in a cynicism it did not previously possess).

Then I had kids. And while I could justify an eternal party at the end of the world, I suddenly had to consider what would happen if they were with me when the bombs fell. I could bite them, yes, but choosing that life for myself was one thing — what if my kids didn’t want to hunt for brains? What if they would prefer to survive? What if they’ve been secretly preparing their whole lives for disaster? What if I’m truly doomed to wander the southern United States keeping them alive in global Burning Man, but without the drugs to deaden the horror of sharing restroom facilities with the same people I pulled out of them during music festivals?

At that point, I became what my friend Kelly likes to call an optimistic prepper.

Do I think I’m likely to survive the apocalypse? I’m willing to roll the dice. And if I’m going to survive the apocalypse, I’m at least going to be valuable. And beyond that, I saw how people acted in COVID, and I have a slightly better-than-lukewarm IQ, which means they’ll probably all kill each other and I’ll be among those who are left to rebuild society, and — this is key — I hate camping.

I hate hotels that have the rooms that open out to an outside hallway.

Am I going to go all out and get a safe room and a two-year supply of food? No. Am I going to stockpile some stuff so that just in case it’s an EMF or a nuclear blast that somehow targets Nashville instead of a city people care about? Yes.

So, if you’re an “optimistic prepper” like me, or you want to be, here’s what I have on hand…just in case (with affiliate links because I’m not dead yet).

LifeStraws: You can buy these on Amazon and they go pretty cheap on Prime Day. You can probably do reverse osmosis filtration on your water with pantyhose, but why bother?

Potassium Iodide: Depending on what third world nation we’ve angered, fallout is a possibility. There’s the basic instructions (seal yourself in, close the windows, etc.), but these tablets will coat your thyroid so you don’t end up with permanent radiation damage. You’ll need at least a 30 day supply for every member of your household, 60 to be safe.

Mess Kit and Non-Perishable Food for at Least 3 Days: Look, if you never need it, your kids can get a realistic military field experience.

Hand-crank Weather Radio: This is also useful in weather events. I didn’t realize how many tornadoes I’d live through in the south, and it both provides a good way to get information and busy work for kids.

Portable Lighting, Including a Stupid-Looking Headlamp

Reusable Solar Charger and Batteries: I stock AA, AAA, C, D, and button batteries, the latter just in case I need an air of extra danger to my post-apocalypse.

That Nokia Phone You’ve Had Since High School along with Cords & Cables: Just don’t empty the junk drawer, because like your dad said, you’ll never know when it’ll come in handy.

Complete First Aid Kit: The fun part of having backyard livestock is that I have a fully stocked veterinary kit and humans are just pretty smart animals. Think bigger is better. Basic medications, scissors, clippers, needles.

Complete Sewing Kit: This crosses over with the first aid kit, kinda. Patches are essential.

A Leatherman: The multitool.

Matches in a Waterproof Case

Duct Tape and WD-40

Your Documents: Update your passport.

I go beyond some of the basics, though. You can get food that lasts for quite a while, sometimes up to a year. Having dry goods isn’t a bad idea, and never forget that people were so worried about wiping their butts that they stockpiled years of toilet paper. It’s not a bad idea. Neither is gathering paper towels, wipes, and masks. If you’re into ammunition, you should have some on hand. Personally, I like to have the kind of frying pans that work well over campfires. Dual duty.

I also have a seed vault. As much as you want to believe corn isn’t “genetically modified,” you definitely don’t want to find out what corn looked like before we got involved.