Why Dave Preps
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Why I Prep, or An Introduction, Of Sorts
I am Dave, and you can, too!
That’s not as much of a joke as it could be, honestly. I am the Dave, the Kilted One, War Chief of the Wee Horde. My lovely wife, hereafter known as Mrs. Dave, is active duty military, and my first full-time job is military wife spouse.
We have two beautiful and precocious barbarians, Wee Dave and Wee-er Dave, and my second full-time job is stay-at-home daddy and primary educator of the next generation. My day job, when it happens, is as David E. Pascoe, author of science fiction and fantasy.
Why Do I Prep?
I prepare. Why? Well, I mean, it’s what you do, right? I kid, I kid. Though, there’s an element of truth to it. In an earlier article, Scott talks about Mazlow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Security is a second tier need, and as part of the military (I did my time as part of my dear Uncle Sam’s Seagoing Concern, the world largest floating gang), most of our primary needs are all things of which care is already taken.
We have a roof over out head, clothes on our backs, food in our fridge (and freezer, and dry pantry), and a high expectation of that continuing, even through minor upsets like a pandemic.
Which means security is also taken care of. And yet …
My Security Is Up To Me
See, here’s the thing: if I leave it up to these Untied Stats Military to handle my security, and safety, and that of my children, I’m doing it wrong. This is beyond intellectual assent, and well into religious conviction.
The moment I give up the responsibility for keeping my family safe to a (more or less) faceless institution is the moment where I’m no longer a free man. At that point, I’ve been bought, and I’d like to keep that moment far away. As distant as possible, really.
I prepare, because institutions are not as agile as individuals, and large institutions have even greater inertia. National institutions are the least agile of all, and I may need to react in minutes, instead of hours, days, or weeks.
If the Big One hits the West Coast of the US, there’s a very real likelihood that my small part of it will be cut off from civilization. Possibly for months. And there’s no guarantee the institutions normally responsible for providing a livelihood for Clan Dave will be able to work around even a moderate disaster.
I prepare, because when you move around, it’s bloody hard to get plugged into a community. As a military husband, it’s doubly hard. I can’t join the wives’ groups: my name ain’t Jody.
Churches are hit or miss. Our current one is more or less defunct, because the vast majority of the congregation are in a vulnerable status to SARS-CoV2 infection. Once the congregation begins to meet again, they will not be restarting programs for children, for much the same reason, which eliminates the practical reasons we attend. So that community has disintegrated.
If I can make a six, eight, or *fifteen* hour drive, I’m more or less golden, as I have kith and kin scattered across the country. On the gripping hand, however, the likelihood that I’ll be able to do that in any situation which would necessitate the use of most of my preps is slim. If I have to put more than basic preps into play, I’m likely in for the long haul.
Which is why I prepare. I have children I wish to raise to be productive members of society. I want them to gain an appreciation for how fleeting civilization is, and their responsibility to do what they can to uphold it.
I want to shape them to view hard work as a way of life, and to embrace the suck when it hits them. I want them to see the opportunities in chaos, and benefit from times of upheaval. I don’t want them comfortable, even when they could be. They are why I prepare.
In Conclusion
Only, only, I’m not great at it. It wasn’t a way of life for my parents, though they’re coming around. It wasn’t a part of the circles in which we moved. We sang songs about militant survivalists for laughs. Since then, I’ve come to appreciate what I can do, but more, what I can’t do.
I can’t run a welding rig. I can’t do most basic auto repair. I can’t change the wiring or plumbing in my own home (not that I’m currently allowed to: see housing, base). And I resent that. I object to a world in which I’m not allowed to do many basic things because someone of wealth and power has decided I shan’t. It right pisses me off.
So I prepare for the inevitable time when I’ll *have* to do those things because Daddy Government is not all-powerful. The institution that shapes our world is made of fallible people. Some are decent. Many are corrupt. Almost all seem to think they know better how I should live than I do. Then I can.
And they’re all ultimately going to fail.
Which is why I prepare.