Preparing For the Zombie Apocalypse

On our wedding day, when my husband, Steve and I stood at the alter in front of our beloved friends and family, I pledged my devotion, my loyalty, my support and to learn to love zombies. For real. Ask anyone who was there.

Steve took me to my first zombie movie when we had been dating a few months. It was George Romero’s “Land of the Dead.” Rich, elite survivors of the zombie apocalypse were holed up in their own gated city living the high life while rebel bands lived on the edge of death fighting each day to make the world safe from zombies.  Sounded like parts of New York City.  I was pretty much hooked. 

Truth be told, I had always had a thing for the post-apocalyptic theme in books and movies. Maybe it’s the control freak in me that would love the opportunity to sketch out a new world order once most of the world was wiped out. Maybe it’s just that I hate crowds. 

How we celebrated Halloween the year of our wedding

 Yes we are a zombie-loving household, but I’ve noticed over the past several years that it isn’t just us. According to IMDB (the internet movie data base,) more than 500 zombie-themed movies have been released since 2001. 

 That’s way more than half of the 863 zombie films ever made.  That list includes mainstream dramas with top stars like “I am Legend”, horror films like “28 Days Later”, comedies such as “Shaun of the Dead and Zombieland,” and even soft-core porn.  Zombies also dominate the airwaves and bookstores too. 

More than entertainment, I have found that this theme has pervaded everyday discourse. I can’t count how many times I’ve engaged in a fierce debate about the safest place to hide out, or what to pack in your “go bag” when the invasion begins, and whether you prefer slow or fast-moving zombies. Just the other day a young friend of mine posited that the smartest strategy was to become a cult leader. I applauded his ingenuity. You can find quizzes testing your zombie war skills on Facebook and hear TV personalities referencing who would be in their survival pack and which weak link friends would be ousted. Seriously it’s everywhere.

Coming Soon to a Theater Near You!

But I didn’t really question why zombies have become so popular until this week. My husband and I were cleaning out a closet and found a box of ammo (don’t be alarmed, he’s a retired cop.) He put it on our counter knowing he’d need to find a safe way to dispose of them. As I stared at the box I had the thought, “you know, he should really take me to the firing range to teach me to shoot before…the invasion.”

I may be control freak preoccupied with apocalyptic fantasies, but they were now creeping  into my reality.  I was aware that this thought was a bit alarming and needed further examination. Why would I, a middle class New Yorker, feel the need to arm myself like some right-wing Midwestern militia member? (not to profile or anything.)

Then I started to think about what I have lived through personally and witnessed via television in the last dozen years. In 2001 I watched two iconic structures that represented my home fall into dust before my very eyes realizing that people I knew, people I had worked with were among that dust. Living four blocks from ground zero, I walk past armed national guardsmen, barricades and gates and cameras on new corners every day. I must make myself aware changing policies regarding what I may and may not carry on to ferries and subways without suspicion. I have been pulled out of security lines at the airports on several occasions because of my last name.


And since 911 I have been part of the global audience watching the aftermath of the Virginia Tech, Aurora, Colorado and Newtown massacres; the Boston Marathon Bombing and foiled Times Square bombing, Hurricane Katrina and dozens of pernicious tornadoes leveling cities and lives in seconds. And this past October I struggled without power for six days after “Superstorm Sandy”. The streets in lower Manhattan were dotted with tired folks wandering aimlessly looking for cell signals and stores with generators. Desperate downtowners cued up hungrily at trucks handing out batteries. Candles became currency.  At night, the streets were eerily silent and until unwelcome sounds of footsteps or hushed voices approached and the fear rose in my blood.  

This is when I feel like I truly began honing my survival skills: cooking in the dark and feeding my less able apartment dweller, gathering water for tepid baths, and walking my dog with a pseudo miner’s lamp on my head and my vigilant husband by my side. I watched some of my neighbors partied and stumbled home drunk and useless (those who will be ousted from the pack eventually) while others shared food, power and good ideas (my future pack members.)

I don’t mean to downplay the experiences of my friends and neighbors who lost their homes or loved ones. That is truly a horror.  I have been more a witness to this horror than a victim. But my point is that the veil has been lifted and I see that my world has changed. And along with it, our collective consciousness and our entertainment choices.

I will continue to love my zombies and prepare for the apocalypse – but only in my head. And at the same time I must take stock of what I have today. And that is a good life.

Just a wee sampling of our zombie paraphenalia