How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

Where would we even find chocolate this far north?

Although Wisconsin is the place to be after the apocalypse: we have fresh water.

Mr T and I had dinner with our friends P and D the other night. And we were talking about The Future. And Retirement. And Do We Have Enough?

And Is It Enough If There Is Disaster?

To which the answer is of course No.

No, it is not enough if there is Disaster.

But if there is Disaster, does it even matter?

To quo – to paraphrase D, If there’s a bomb, I’m running toward it.

I thought about it and realized she’s right.

I’m 56. I’ve lived a really good life. I’m not done. There’s more I would like to do. But I wouldn’t feel extraordinarily cheated if my life were to end tomorrow.

I would be angry if something were to happen to my bonus daughters and sons in law and grandchildren. They are too young. They would be cheated. They would be wronged.

But me? OK. Fair enough.

As D says, I have no interest in surviving a nuclear attack.

Which of course led us to a discussion of the book, On the Beach, which is one of my favorites. Have you read it? Read it. There’s been a nuclear war or whatever. Everyone is dead except the Australians, but the fallout is drifting toward Australia and should be there in about three months.

What do you do if you know you have only a few months to live? If you know the world will come to an end in a few months?

One of the women in the story plants tomatoes.

Mr T, the engineer, says, “But it takes tomatoes more than three months to grow.”

Which – yeah.

That’s the whole point.

What do you do when you know the world will come to an end in three months?

How do you live your life?

How do you focus?

What really matters?

So now I am thinking. Hmmmm. Would I wash the kitchen windows? (Yes, because I like having clean windows) Would I plant tomatoes? (Yes, because what if the fallout doesn’t arrive as fast as they think it will and I can have tomatoes) Would I go to work? (NO)

What would you do?


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