Posted in Monday Mayhem

Benefits to Becoming a Zombie

The other day my friends and I couldn’t agree if becoming a zombie was a good thing. Aside from the annoying groan and smells emanating from the undead corpse, some of them seemed to think turning into a zombie was a positive experience. I begged to differ.

Crowd photo of the Guinness World Record™ breaking New Jersey Zombie Walk held on October 30th, 2010. 4,093+ zombies attended the event. [Photo credit:  Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.]
Crowd photo of the Guinness World Record™ breaking New Jersey Zombie Walk held on October 30th, 2010. 4,093+ zombies attended the event. [Photo credit: Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.]
On a dare, I promised my friends that for my Monday Mayhem series post I’d refute their claims and prove beyond a doubt that the life of a zombie was not something one would aspire to, if one were to put things into perspective.

Being a Zombie Saves Time—The biggest advantage my friends put forth as a reason to becoming a zombie is that zombies do not have to worry about personal hygiene. They argued that the byproduct to such an action is saving time. Well, I thought, so is not sleeping. But you don’t see me not taking showers and staying up all night. That is, if you don’t live in a frat house. No, I countered their argument stating the obvious. Okay, you’ll save time by not bathing and not sleeping. Then what? How will you use that extra time? You can’t go out on date because, frankly, you’ll smell. And you can’t learn a new hobby because the teacher will run away at the first sight of you. Jack 1, Friends 0.

Being a Zombie Means Never Having to Go Hungry—I’m not sure how we ended up talking about this, but eventually the conversation of food came to play. My friends agreed that zombies would never have to go hungry again. With a lot of humans running around, they’d have their choice of meat any way they want. Sorry, but I’m going to raise one slight detail they forgot to factor into their genius argument. Everything would be all sunshine and rainbows if humans didn’t have the weapons to splatter your brains all over the back wall where you were standing. As zombies, you can run after humans. The question remains, will you live long enough to claim your prize? Don’t think humans will lay down without a fight. Jack 2, Friends 0.

Being a Zombie Means Having Eternal Life—I literally laughed out loud when one of my friends suggested they’d have eternal life. The first thought to hit me was, living forever? How? As an undead creature, you’d rot to a slow death. What kind of life is that? Would being a zombie mean having the ability to cheat death? I don’t think so. Look at what happened to the zombies in the movie Warm Bodies. They had sniveled to stick figures with no hope of living a productive life. Then there’re the walkers in The Walking Dead. They’re about to fall apart soon. No thanks. I’d rather remain human with the full knowledge that when I die I won’t have to worry about the dastardly deeds I’d committed as a zombie. I know, weak argument, but still. Jack 3, Friends 0.

Being a Zombie Means I Can Dance—My friends used the Michael Jackson Thriller video to make their point. Zombies can dance, they said. And you know what? I happen to agree with them. Great video. Jack 3, Friends 1.

There you have it. Other than knowing how to dance, the benefits to becoming a zombie are not that great. I’d choose human over zombie any day of the week.

RANGER MARTIN AND THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE, on sale now.
RANGER MARTIN AND THE ALIEN INVASION, on sale now.

What arguments did I miss? Is being a zombie all that great?

Posted in Freedom Friday

School Dance

When I was a teenager going to high school, October was the month I looked forward to the most. It was the month when the long-awaited school dance took place. In the ninth grade, being part of the student council, I got in free. It didn’t matter really, since I would have easily paid double to get in regardless of the price. For today’s Freedom Friday, let me tell you why I thought the school dance was the greatest event of the entire school year.

Gymnasium
Gymnasium

As I’d mentioned, because I was part of the student council, there were privileges attached to being the ninth grades’s representative. One of the key privileges was getting into the school events for free, particularly school dances. Our school sponsored three dances—fall, winter and spring. Typically, the fall one would take place in October, the winter one in February, and the spring dance sometime between the end of March and the beginning of April.

What made our dances special was the DJ we hired for the events. I still remember his name and for the purposes of respecting his privacy, I won’t mention it. Suffice it to say, he was incredible. Prior to the evening of the dance, which took place on a Friday night, the DJ would need the gymnasium for that whole day. He and his crew would set up these massive speakers in front of the stage that would extend from the floor to the ceiling. Other than a small opening in the center where we could see him perform, he had created an entire wall of sound. If you could imagine a rock concert, that’s the power I’m describing in the small confines of an enclosed area no bigger than a basketball court.

Anyway, when the fall dance finally came, I had to be there to make sure all the restrooms were in working order. You wouldn’t believe what went on in those restrooms. I also had to stamp the hands of those who paid their entrance fee. Once my shift was over, though, I was free to mingle. What that meant was hooking up with friends who hadn’t asked any of the girls to dance.

Like any gymnasium, it had four walls, but the students always believed there were three: First, the wall where the girls would wait for the guys to muster enough courage to ask them to dance. Second, the wall where the guys would watch the girls from across the dance floor, wondering if their self-esteem would suffer from the make-believe rejections running through their mind. Third, the ominous wall of sound where the illustrious DJ would spin the tracks.

Eventually, hanging out with the guys became somewhat boring, although we did have fun talking about what so-and-so was wearing, and of who was dating who.

Before going forward, I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m writing this not out of a haughty spirit or to brag, because that’s not my intention. But when it came to girls, I never really had a problem getting dates. I attribute that to a little secret few guys knew.

The secret?

The hottest chicks were home Saturday night because guys were too chicken to ask them out for fear of rejection. Somehow, in my finite teenage mind I knew this, took advantage of the lack of competition and asked the hottest chicks out without fear of rejection. And they would go out with me!

Consequently, the night of the dance, I had no problem leaving the wall of dejected guys to stroll across the dance floor and ask the hottest of the hot to dance. And they would dance with me!

There was more to the fall dance than anyone else knew, though. Our hired police officers had to monitor the restrooms and on occasion tossed couples outside for making out in the stalls. The smell of weed hovered in the halls. Drinking in the parking lot was prevalent. And girls putting out behind the school was normal. There was a lot more that went on; however, those incidents were in the minority. The crowd I frequented was tame, and we had fun just being kids.

I think the best part of the night was the walk home. My friends and I lived in the same neighborhood so it was great talking about the stupid things we saw happen, who got in trouble, and who ended up with a suspension. Of course, girls came into the conversation, but we won’t get into that.

RANGER MARTIN AND THE ALIEN INVASION, on sale October 21.

What do you remember about your school dance?