Saturday night…War of the Worlds…Tom Cruise…

I need to make clear I am neither a science fiction enthusiast nor a Tom Cruise fan.  I was simply at loose ends last Saturday night.  Doug was glued to the computer and I had a mountain of ironing to do.  My head ached, throat was sore so didn’t care what movie ran in the background.  I know…you still can’t believe anyone irons clothes anymore, can you?

What sucked me into the movie was the scene where Tom is running down the street holding his daughter with teenage son running alongside, awkwardly carrying a box of food pulled from the fridge.  Tom steals a mini-van from a friend..although he did invite the friend to get in just before one of the evil tri-pods zapped the friend into vapor…and off they went.

That was Tom’s method of being prepared?  Really?  Where was his 72 hour kit?

Being married to an emergency manager…who doesn’t actually “manage” emergencies as the name implies, but prepares for them…I’m more aware of the need for preparedness than the average person might be.  Doug’s passion is educating citizens so they can fend for themselves during a major event when trained emergency personnel may be scarce.

After much prodding, I finally took a class last year…Community Emergency Response Team..CERT.  Doug conducted the class, entertaining fellow that he is, and I learned tons of good stuff and met alot of great people who really care about their communities.  Many of my classmates are active volunteers who share Doug’s passion.  My passion leads me in another direction at the moment, so I’m not quite there yet with the CERT volunteers.  However, I did pull together my 72 hour kit.  In fact, my kit is big enough that I could probably take care of 2 or 3 people, besides myself, in the event of an emergency…for a week.

So as I watched War of the Worlds unfold Saturday night, I realized my kit had a severe flaw.  I can’t carry it.  Doug warned me about that … and I just hate when he’s right.  The kit itself is fine… if I’m escaping in a car or truck.  I could drag it that far.  But if I had to carry it down the block the tri-pods would vaporize me in the first minute.

This is my kit….

I’m really quite fond of it.  I bought the bag at a gun show last year.  It’s weather-proof.  It’s camo print, which I love…makes me think of my boys.  It has all kinds of pockets, zippers, nooks and crannies.  And I can fit everything into it which I believe would be needed in case of an emergency…including the kitchen sink.  Really!  I have one in there.  Here it is….

You’ll have to trust me that this compact little circle opens up into a handy sink…….I’m not going to open it right now because it takes an act of congress to get it all folded back in……and we know we’re getting nowhere if congress is involved.  Anyway…..

I felt so sorry for Tom and his kids as they walked, ran and hid from the tri-pods.  I kept wondering how they could keep going…no water, no food, no dry socks to change into after plodding thru all the mud and blood of destruction.  Believe me, I’ve been doing some serious thinking about how I will plan for such an emergency.

I’ve decided to keep my big, beautiful bag as it is….in the event I have time to drag it out to the car and drive off.  But in addition I’m going to build something a little more practical just in case I’m on foot, walking for days on end, running, dodging, doing tri-pod battle in the crazy guy’s basement….you know, normal emergency stuff.

I think a simple, regular sized backpack will do…a few waters, food bars, my Bible, clean socks, something to make a fire with, a rain poncho (I do live in Oregon after all) copies of ID, flashlight, my cool little coffee kit…ok, ok…must stop…

See how hard this is ……before I know it I’ll end up with a bigger backpack and won’t be able to pick that one up either. I suppose, when you get down to basics, a complete change of clothing, extra shoes, toothbrush, fragrance-free, sensitive-skin facial moisturizer and a kitchen sink are not essential.  But the sink is so cute…so little…I’m sure I can fit it in.