Go Bag

This past Monday, I sat on my back porch and waited for the world to end.

 

For the rivers to turn to blood, to be eaten by a swarm of locusts followed by the return of

 

Jesus.

 

According to everything I had read or seen online, Monday’s total eclipse was supposed to cause all that and more.

 

Some people claimed that when the world went dark, Jesus would return on a white horse. It had something to do with the eclipse path making a cross. Or a starfish.

 

I’m not sure which one so I just patiently on my back porch and waited for the trumpet to sound so I could fly up to heavens.

 

And then, nothing happened. Absolutely nothing.

 

Jesus didn’t come back. At least not for me. There was a pesky bumble bee that kept buzzing my head. But no locusts.

 

I didn’t grow a horn out of my forehead or lose the feeling in my left earlobe.

 

None of the things those bozos on the internet said would happen.

 

I didn’t really see anything different than any other Monday afternoon. At 3:05pm when chaos was supposed to reign, nothing happened. The sky didn’t get dark. There were no earthquakes , no swarm of frogs falling from the sky or cats and dogs lying down together.

 

Nothing.

 

So I went inside and back to work. Like any other day.

 

But Monday was not like any other day. For the first time that I can remember, Americans lost their collective sanity.

 

And where there are crazy people, there are hucksters.

 

Some guy was selling ‘eclipse insurance’ online. He guaranteed that if you sent him $49.95, you would be covered in case of a hurricane, volcanic eruption or the banking system crashed and we all had to start buying stuff with turnips.

 

Another guy was on TV saying that people should shave their heads and wrap themselves in tinfoil so they could be recognized by passing aliens and picked up on their way to Jupiter.

 

But the one that really caught my attention was some guy trying to

convince the listeners of his talk show that the one thing the eclipse taught us was that everyone should have a ‘go bag.’

 

You know, just in case.

 

In case of what I wondered. The guy never said but he seemed to be implying that if we didn’t have a ‘go bag’ packed and sitting by the front door, we would be easy pickings for the zombie aliens who would soon come to eat our brains.

 

Exactly what was I supposed to put in my ‘go bag’? Snacks? A clean pair of sock? A snake bite kit?

 

I went to the World Wide Web (while it still worked) to see if I could find out.

First, I wondered what exactly should a go bag look like. I found a bullet-proof, waterproof, nuclear-proof backpack with full body armor from JanSport for $600.

 

I don’t want to sound picky but I sincerely doubt a backpack is going to save you if the Russians fire a nuclear warhead at your trailer.

 

There were cheaper options, of course. Some for less than $50 but they made no promises to protect you from an atomic blast or being shot with an Ak-47 while standing in line at the donut shop.

 

I opted for a leftover plastic Walmart bag that I found behind the trash can. It wasn’t bulletproof but it was free.

 

So what exactly was I supposed to put in my ‘Walmart go bag’ anyway? I have little experience with preparing for the end of the world. I know what to do if I’m washing my hair and the water stops coming out of the shower head, but the end of all mankind?

 

Nope.

 

So I looked that up, too. And discovered that you don’t even have to think about it. Amazon has 47 pages of pre-packaged kits ready for your ‘bug out’ bag. And they offer free next day delivery.

 

Hopefully, the next time the end of the world is imminent, we will get 24 hours notice.

 

Most of these ‘kits’ were just filled with useless crap.

 

Like pouches our instant water. Just put a spoonful in your mouth and if you can manage to work up some spit, you would have all the fresh water you would even need.

 

And most of those kits came with a plethora of first aid supplies. Bandaids, toenail clippers, a tube for siphoning gas and one of those emergency blankets that’s made from the same material used to wrap Juicy Fruit gum.

 

I’ve never understood how a little thin tinfoil blanket is supposed to keep you warm if your spaceship crashes on Neptune, but NASA thinks otherwise.

Science.

 

Most of the Amazon kits had some food. Mostly freeze-dried kale and tofu popsicles. Nothing anyone in their right mind would eat even if the world was coming to an end.

 

I didn’t want my ‘go bag’ to be filled with all that sissy crap. So I decided to make my own list of what I would pack in my Walmart bag.

 

There would be no freeze-dried water or snacks made from crickets on my list but I do think it might keep me alive until the tsunami takes me.

 

I would pack some first aid items. A tube of Neosporin and a small box of SpoungeBob Squarepants bandaids. Face it, if a T-Rex emerges from hibernation during the next eclipse, that fancy torniquet and Gaboon Viper anti-venom isn’t going help you run any faster.

 

I would ditch the emergency poncho and toss in a nice camel

hair overcoat. Hey, if I go out in a blaze of glory, I want to look good.

And forget the freeze-dried tofu crap. All I would need is big bag of Corn Nuts (the world’s greatest snack) and a 2-liter bottle of Mt. Dew.

 

I might throw in a bag of pork rinds. Got to have some protein to keep my strength up for when I have to fight off the genetically-modified bear gators.

 

I was thinking about tossing in my cpap machine but figured there would be no place to plug it in when the power grid goes down.

 

Sorry, baby, but there will be some pretty vicious snoring in our bomb shelter.

 

So I got all my ‘go bag’ stuff lined up on the table- my Corn Nuts, banjo strings and toilet plunger. Now it was time to get them into my bag.

 

I stuffed my SpongeBob SquarePants bandaids and Neosporin in the bottom. My Axe body spray and pork rinds next, the dill pickle flavored ones, and then my jug of Mt Dew. I figured when the world ends, I’m just going to Do the Dew!

 

I tossed in my toenail clippers, eyelash glue and my Delta State University ball cap (Go Fighting Okra!).

 

Then disaster struck.

 

I picked up my Walmart ‘go bag’ and the bottom fell out! My toenail clippers punctured the Corn Nuts bag and they spilled all over the floor. And then my Mt. Dew bottled rolled off the table, down the hallway and under the couch.

 

Uh oh, I thought. Mt. Dew is going to spew all over the place when I open it in my bomb shelter later.

 

I’ll need to add some Wet Wipes!

 

Apparently the tensil strength of my plastic Walmart bag isn’t even close to that of the $600 bullet-proof, nuclear fission-resistant backpack from JanSport.

 

This was a problem. I still needed to pack my 64-ounce tube of hemorrhoid cream, cotton candy machine and pickle ball racquet. What now?

 

I can’t have my ‘go bag’ busting open while I’m fleeing from a swarm of killer bees infected with typhoid fever.

 

I rooted around in the pantry and found a used Piggly Wiggly paper sack-one of double bagger ones. That should be strong enough to hold my blender and antique hat pin collection and still leave some room for the waffle iron.

 

I got everything stuffed in that sack-even the accordion, and set it by the back door. I wrote ‘Jeff’s Go Bag- DO NOT TOUCH’ in big letters on the side with a Sharpie.

 

I was ready for the next eclipse. It is supposed to occur in 2045.

 

I’ll be 82 then.

 

You better throw in a bottle of Viagra.

 

You know, just in case me and Scarlett Johansson have to repopulate the Earth.