August 25, 2011

August 25, 2011

The Day After Tomorrow

Tuesday's earthquake and the impending hurricane have convinced me of an obvious fact: we are all about to die.

It's okay. I've accepted it. When Jake Gyllenhaal* suggests we start setting Wendy's restaurants on fire, I will be prepared with matches and kindling.

I've begun sorting through my possessions determining what to take and what to leave when the tidal wave hits. This is harder than you'd think: my best stuff is often not portable (Clavinova) or tradeable in a post-apocalyptic society (TV, laptop, Hello Kitty memorabilia).

So I've settled on my collection of tiny newspapers.

(Pudding cup was included in the picture for scale. Pudding cup will be included when I flee for snacking purposes.)

Collected over many years (earliest is from 1995), at events from State Fairs to auto shows, these tiny newspapers are modern life in a nutshell: small, easily destroyed, and soon to be obsolete.

(What, too much of a downer? We who are about to die salute you.)

For those of you also in Irene's path, keep an eye out for me. I'll be the one with pudding on my shirt.

*Didn't even have to Google it. Draw your own conclusions.

0 Fish in a Sea of Diet Coke: