The undead are the talk of the nation. Or at least the talk of the Internet. Every day, it seems, innocent people are getting their faces chewed off or their brains and hearts eaten in random, unprovoked zombie attacks. Whatever your political or religious persuasion, no one wants to get his or her face chewed off by a flesh-eating zombie.
At first glance, this is an absurd topic. But dig a little deeper. The talk of “zombie apocalypse” taps into real fear that is profound. It’s about the aftermath of total societal upheaval, one in which the norms and mores of civilized behavior no longer apply. The threat of a genuine “dog eat dog” (or perhaps “dog eat dog brains”) world is always looming on the horizon. The zombies, when they come, may arrive in unexpected forms.
For those of us raised in the suburban United States, with a doughnut-munching ticket-writing Barney Fife stationed on every street corner, the notion of complete societal breakdown seems far fetched. But is it? We’ve seen it happen right here within our own borders in recent years. Natural disasters have unleashed the zombies.
Hurricane Katrina, for example, struck the Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama Gulf Coasts like Mike Tyson in his prime. In some areas, the zombie mob ruled. The days after Katrina weren’t exactly shining moments for the city of New Orleans. But Katrina zombies didn’t rule the day everywhere. In the nearby Mississippi city of Biloxi (home to thousands of people and a thriving casino economy) neighbors pulled together and got through the worst of times.
When you think about it, human history is replete with episodes of upheaval. It could be a natural disaster, or a military invasion, or a plague. If anything, sustained times of calm and order are the exception; periodic chaos is the norm.
So, how does all this uplifting disaster talk tie into RV ownership? Whenever there’s a major disruption of life as usual, RVs make an appearance. Owning a “home on wheels” has its advantages, especially in times of societal duress. RVs are terribly unsafe places to ride out a storm, but they can be wonderful shelter once the weather has cleared.
Of course they serve as shelter in the affected areas. In the wake of Katrina, FEMA delivered thousands of RVs to the affected masses in Louisiana. People lived in FEMA trailers for years after the big storm blew through the Big Easy.
RVs also serve as homes that owners can take anywhere. I have a friend in Florida. “Our RV is our escape pod,” he told me. “The next time a hurricane heads our way, we’re loading up the rig and heading north.”
If you own an RV, you already have a lot of “survival equipment” on hand. Last week a violent thunderstorm knocked out power throughout our area, and we suffered an outage at our home. It gave me no small measure of satisfaction to fire up our generator. We used generator power to light our kitchen, cook our dinner (in a convection toaster oven), and watch an episode of 60 Minutes on TV. There’s something about using a generator when the power is out. It almost feels like you are cheating the system. But you aren’t cheating; you are simply prepared.
How would RVs fare in a zombie apocalypse? Actually, they would do quite well – assuming, of course, that owners could find fuel. An RV without petrol isn’t nearly as appealing.
To extrapolate upon those discussed in the video, here are a few specific tips for surviving the zombie apocalypse.
1. Get one or more shotguns (double-barrel preferred) and as much ammo as you can store. Look, I’m as peace-loving Kum-Bah-Yah as they come. But when face-eating zombies are on the prowl? I’m packing heat.
2. Board RV windows from the inside (zombies will simply tear off boards mounted outside your rig).
3. Aim for the head. For obvious reasons.
4. Migrate to rural areas with small populations and high visibility. Those cliff dwellers in southern Colorado had the right idea.
5. Wear thick clothing and gloves (even small zombie bites can be deadly).
6. Invest in solar power (during the zombie apocalypse, fossil fuels will be scarce).
7. Consider military-style camouflage paint & netting. Anything you can do to hide yourself and your RV from both zombies and the living should be considered.
Zombies aren’t the smartest of creatures. They haven’t, for example, figured out how to use guns. This is fortunate since most RVs are not bulletproof. One of these days, a savvy RV manufacturer will introduce a bulletproof RV with Kevlar-lined walls. Until that time, we’ve got to hope that the undead remain clueless about firearms.
With enough fuel, my strategy will be to move West. If we can see the zombies approaching from 30 miles away, I like our chances…