Awaiting the Other Big Bang

        I’m so relieved the Apocalypse is finally coming. After years of waiting for it and hearing what to expect, I say it’s about time! I’m grateful for American writers, filmmakers, political pundits and religious figures who’ve been consistently warning us about the End of Days, whether to expect zombies, climatic catastrophe, pandemics, nuclear war or worse, the disappearance of cat photos posted online.

       I want to be a role model in my positive attitude about the Apocalypse, like the San Francisco woman living in a cliffside apartment overlooking the Pacific Ocean when a sixty foot section of a cliff gave way a few days ago. Asked what she thought about this potentially cataclysmic event, she replied, “I just thought the ocean view was getting closer.”

       A good friend has begun wearing a necklace with a Hamsa, the good-luck amulet shaped like a human palm, including fingers.  My friend firmly believes the Hamsa will ward off evil and the End of Days, although more than once guys have high-fived her chest.

       I told my son Andy how happy I was that the Apocalypse is due, either at the same time as my six-month dental appointment or my yearly Pap smear, I can’t remember which. But I know it’s close to one of my annual appointments. I’m supposed to get an Apocalypse reminder card in the mail.

            I called Andy to suggest he buy extra water, flashlights and Triscuits for the Apocalypse. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss it, since, like most 20-year-olds, he’s trying to find a job. The closest he’s come to a job was for a Craigslist-advertised “Fitter,” but when he showed up for the interview, Victoria’s Secret threw him out.

            Realizing that with the imminent Apocalypse any new job will only be temporary, I urged Andy to sign with a temp agency. His first job is to fill in for a man on leave from Andy’s local Congressman’s office. The job is “Legislative Sanitation Aide” and requires that Andy have good spelling skills and be able to carry around a gallon jug of Purell to wipe down whatever and whoever his legislator boss has touched. The job may turn into permanent work because the regular Legislative Sanitation Aide is off work due to an upper respiratory infection, E-coli, oral herpes, and pinkeye.  

            One of my friends (whom I’ll call Mel) has his own unique program to greet the Apocalypse. Mel has secured a domain online—this is true— which celebrates the (soon-to-be outdated) joy of being alive. He plans to meet with business people and politicians to promote his idea of a national day celebrating all the happiness that humans take for granted.

            “I call my domain ‘WWW.Worldorg.org.” he told me recently.

            I thought “org.org” seemed redundant, but, Mel said, “the domain name reflects the source of much joy I’ve experience in the world and its universality.”

            Mel’s first “org,” he explained, is for “orgasm.”

            Apparently, when the Apocalypse shows, Mel will be too engrossed to notice it. For example, he won’t need any Triscuits.

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8 responses to “Awaiting the Other Big Bang

  1. haha. What luck that the apocalypse happens to fall right before an annoying doctors appointment! I personally plan to schedule my yearly appointment with the dermatologist right after the end of days. That way I will be free for the first time ever from him looking at my face and sighing in disappointment at the unwillingness of my zits to conform to his will.

    Won’t that be grand.

  2. Jane, the Apocalypse is expected to touch down only briefly in Ohio, probably at Piqua, formerly (as you know) “The Atomic City” and
    major underwear manufacturing town. There should be an Apocalypse Warning or at least a crawl across your television in Athens. Keep in mind that immediately after the Apocalypse, dermatologists and other medical professionals will only take same-day appointments.

    Best,

    Tygerpen

  3. Cute! I can’t spend too much time worrying about an Apocalypse. I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do about it anyway…:-) But perhaps I should stock up on those Triscuits…and reschedule those annoying appointments…:-)

  4. Sallyg, (Sa-leeg?)

    I see you’ve left out another important item for your Apocalypse Kit—-Dark Chocolate. This was a serious oversignt. Memory loss as we know is one of the first signs of…..oh sh-t, I forgot what.

    Tygerpen

  5. Brilliant! Reminiscent of Jonathan Swift’s
    “A Modest Proposal, remember folks?

    Elaine Starkman, Writing Instructor.

  6. Elaine, thank you for comparing “Awaiting the Other Big Bang” with Jonathan Swift. This is the second time this week that people-eating has come to my attention. The first was a documentary on PBS’s American Experience about the Donner Party. Needless to say, both stories affected me and made me very hungry.

    Warmest regards,

    Tygerpen

  7. whats up Truuuuuuuuuddddddddiiiiiiiii, I am slowly meandering through the The Book Thief. Thank you for letting me borrow it. I have not destroyed it yet but some of the pages might be stuck together, don’t blame me I am only human. I have a new girl friend, she does not think you are funny although she did laugh out loud while reading this with me at SFSU. Clearly I never choose them for there opinions or intelligence. I honestly don’t think that Stephanie finds me funny she just laughs every once in a while staring at my lips. Talked to your son recently heard he injured himself. I recommended a witch doctor hope to see you soon got to go.

  8. Nick/Cotton,

    I was quite concerned about your new girlfriend’s lack of a sense of humor so I asked a doctor friend of mind about it. The doctor told me that Stephanie is not really staring at your lips. “She’s staring in envy at Cotton’s eyes. The Anterior Chamber of the eye is the front section of the eye’s interior where AQUEOUS HUMOR flows.” In other words, unlike you, SHE has a thin and watery sense of humor. This also explains what you two have in common—water.
    She could use a little lubricant, right? In the EYES, the EYES.

    Love n’ kisses,

    Tygerpen

    P.S. The Book Thief is also reaching the status of underground classic. So many people tell me they’ve just discovered it after they stoled from Barnes and Noble.

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