Posted in Monday Mayhem

Zombies and the Weather

I’m writing this post a week in advance with the temperature outside having dipped to a balmy -26°C/-14.8°F. Of course, balmy is not the word I would have chosen to describe the frigid arctic air mass that has settled here in Northeastern Canada. But know it’s my attempt at sarcasm. I’m hoping by the time this publishes, this paragraph will remain relevant. Nonetheless, since I’m talking about the weather and our frosty climate across the border, I’m now curious as to whether the undead would be able to survive our environment here in the Great White North.

Winter in Canada
Winter in Canada

So, without much fanfare, and since today is Family Day here in Ontario, I thought it interesting for my Monday Mayhem series of articles if I talk about zombie survivability in extreme weather conditions.

[Note: Please folks, don’t take this post seriously, because I’m going to share some ideas with you that will not have relevance of thought, or applicability to current conditions in the grand scheme of zombiehood. In other words, take it as light reading for a Monday morning.]

All right, with that out of the way, let’s talk about zombies and the arctic weather we’re experiencing here in Canada. Would zombies be able to survive our climate if they walk the streets at night and no one’s around to feed them? Literally. Knowing what I know about the draggers, and how stupid there are, I think they’d freeze solid before they even try to get their grimy little paws on us. First, at least on my street, it gets quiet during winter. If it’s quiet then chewers can’t find us. More than likely, they’d roam or maybe stand in one spot, which, by the time I wake up in the morning, I’ll have a bunch of undead statues standing erect on my driveway ready for the hammer to the head. Second, snowstorms have blessed us up here. I’d love to see those miserable eaters fight through our frozen winter wonderland chasing after their food. They’d have to find us first. The blustery wind alone would shake them off their feet.

Tornado and Lightning
Tornado and Lightning

Since I’m talking about the wind, what about tornadoes? In the summer, just north of where I live, resides twister alley. Do you think the undead would be able to survive a blast from nature soon after one of these cyclones touches down on terra firma? The impact alone would kill them. I’ve seen videos of how one of these funnels cut a path straight across a neighborhood leaving devastation in its wake. No way would a zombie live through that. I mean, after getting slammed a few times upside the head with a pickup truck, I’m sure there wouldn’t be anything left either of the zombie or the pickup.

How about thunderstorms? In minutes, I’ve seen our neighborhood go from birds chirping, sun shining and a gentle wafting of the breeze to utter devastation, thunder clapping, deluge of water coursing through the streets and lightning. I think a storm of such ferocity, though, would do little damage to the chewer population. Oh sure, perhaps a few bolts of lightning frying the unfortunate undead who happens to stroll the sidewalk that day could prove nature still had a way announcing its control. But really? It’ll last a few minutes and the zombie crowd would still be around for the fight.

No, what needs to happen is for the earth to open and swallow anything dragging their feet. Then, and only then, would there be peace on earth.

Unfortunately, our neighborhood hasn’t experienced an earthquake in years. Not that I would want one, mind you.

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Do you think the weather could prevent the undead from attacking? What would be the most devastating thing the weather could do to destroy a zombie horde?

Posted in Freedom Friday

Nostalgia

It’s raining here. I’m not sure what the weather will be like in a few weeks, but it’s been raining quite often this summer. I’m almost certain it’ll probably rain again when this publishes for my Freedom Friday post.

Storm clouds over our home (June 14, 2005)
Storm clouds over our home (June 14, 2005)

Rain makes me nostalgic. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think about the bad stuff that’s happened in the past. I think about how things used to be, what my life was like at particular points in time. I think everyone goes through these self-reflective moods where we ponder on the wins and losses, the births and deaths, the joy and pain. In some respect, there’s that temptation to want to go back to those times to do things over in an effort to fix that of which we made a mess.

I understand that. I do. I think it’s a natural process in our makeup as humans that as we age, the inevitable reality reveals itself that we’re only on this earth for a certain time and we should make the most of what we’re given.

Maybe that last part didn’t make much sense. I don’t know. Maybe I’m talking gibberish again.

When I look back, I measure my life’s journey by the movies I’ve watched, the music I’ve listened to, and the people I’ve met. Whenever I think of having watched Titanic in the theater in 1998, I remember how I had long hair, a bit of an attitude, and I wasn’t about to let anyone tell me what I will do, should do, or have to do. At the same time, I remember this magical time when a spotlight shined on Celtic music. Since my wife is from Nova Scotia, I felt rather proud too that it was Ireland’s time.

Storm brewing over our neighborhood (June 14, 2005)
Storm brewing over our neighborhood (June 14, 2005)

The little things also are what get me. I’ll be standing in line at the grocery store and an Eighties song would play in the background shooting me back to my teens when I had my whole life ahead of me with no cares in the world except maybe not having a date for Friday night and the homework assignment due on Monday.

What else was there? I’m certain it was not that acne blowout three minutes before going on stage for my student council acceptance speech.

During these summer months, I have a very strange ritual. It’s a strange ritual because I don’t think anyone else does this. Maybe they do, but I haven’t found anyone who does. If you’re one of those people, let me know. We can be strange together. When it rains, I walk outside in my bare feet and shorts, sit under the front canopy to my house and stretch my legs. I allow the water to pour on my feet. The more powerful the storm, the happier I get. And if lightening should crack in the sky, I’m in my element, grinning from ear to ear.

Didn’t I say it was a strange ritual? I’m not sure why something like a storm would bring such happiness. Maybe it goes with the nostalgia I feel in the rain.

Or maybe, I’m strange. Either way, I’m learning something new every day.

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Do you ever get nostalgic? What is it that you think about?