CPAP Machines & the Loss of Genetic Advantage

My offspring are doomed. And not just because they skipped their chores last night, but because they are mine. Or rather, because they are my husband's. He is simply not suited to the rudiments of survival in the wild.

I don't mean to be unkind. I love my adorable husband. But he sleeps with a CPAP machine, and he has handed down this charming genetic weakness to our progeny. There is simply no chance of long-term survival in an ice age.

Even if there were, by some miracle, electricity in our post-climate change cave, someone will undoubtedly beat these men to death with a stone just to stop the unrelenting noise. It's like spending endless, dark nights with Darth Vader; it is impossible to express the disturbance in the force!

Even if the CPAPers survive (which is unlikely once sleep deprivation sets in amongst the strong and healthy), they are genetically doomed: who, in their right mind, would willingly breed with a family whose grave stone reads: Forgot to Breath While Sleeping or Unable to Breath Independently?

Given the genetic errors of my way, my kids have got two, three generations tops.

For those of you who aren't aware, the CPAP machine is like a leaf blower you stick up your nose so you can breathe while lying down. It hums and buzzes all night long. If you are especially lucky, it will work itself into a high pitched frenzy that drills holes in your ear drums while inducing even deeper and unpenitrable sleep on the part of the CPAPer. It's enough to make you do crazy things...

Mostly, CPAPs are prescribed for snoring and sleep apnea. In some cases, there are deeper sleep disturbances lurking below the surface (as in the case of my genetically inferior family). The obvious solution is to banish all the CPAPers to their own cave. That way they won't disturb the rest of us, and there is no chance that they will reproduce any further...once that contraption is running, there is no risk of hanky panky with any of the other leaf blowers.

Obviously, this plan has a certain Red Tent ring to it, so you never know, there might be a happy ending after all.

But in the meantime, each night I turn off the lights to the wailing sound of the CPAP, I become a little bit more aware that my lovely children are doomed, doomed, genetically doomed in the coming ice age, and there is nothing I can do about it now.

Are You an Innie or an Outie?

The truth is, we all have a little bit of Neanderthal in the old DNA, just as we have a bit of chimpanzee in there. Or maybe chimpanzee have a little human. It's hard to say for sure. But in any case, when pressed hard by circumstance, humans do have the ability to peel bananas from the bottom up, survive on proteins we pick from our loved ones' fur, and beat our chests emphatically when we want to make a point.

It's a little harder to know which human quirks mirror the Neanderthal. But that's only because we have so few cave men in captivity and so little video tape to observe. America's exotic pet owners, however, are able to say that today's Neanderthals, like belly buttons, come in two forms: innies and outies.

I, with my constant reflection and intellectual curiosity about the coming ice age, am an innie. My cousin PJ, who lives in the arctic circle, hunts, fishes and shoots all trespassers for food, and sheds his fur in the summer, is an outie. PJ does not need to prepare for the coming ice age. He wakes every morning, gathers up his loyal dogs, and walks outside chanting, "Today! Today! Let the ice come today! Today! Today! Let the ice come today!"

The casual observer might think he is trying to get out of going to his day job, which, let's face it, is a necessity in the pre-ice age era and something we innies have down cold. In truth, PJ is ready for his next challenge and only an ice age will do. We innies, might be somewhat behind.

We could attempt to catch up by following the outies' example--build basement get away shelters, amass a lifetime supply of food and nuclear weapons, and master the particulars of cooking with yak's milk. It wouldn't be hard, but it requires a lot of work. ("Going green" and saving the planet might be less labor intensive.) Plus, imitating the outies' every preparation exposes our Achilles' heel and makes us easy prey on day one of doom.

In the alternative, I would suggest working together and building on each other's strengths, but that's just so much innie, soft-skills, leadership speak I can hear the outies laughing already.

There is simply no other choice. We innies need to take a page from the outie's Rule Book for Life, and turn to our own greatest strength. Which, I am sure is our better chimpanzee nature. To survive the ice age, we must find the warmest tree top available, form tight knit social groups that resemble tribes, and learn to pierce the eardrums of marauding outies with our screams.

And in the meantime, it probably wouldn't hurt to learn a few things about making musk ox jerky using last winter's sidewalk salt and that old fan in the garage.

You Don't Need No Stinking Guide

I know, I know. You don't need no stinking Guide for the Coming Ice Age. You don't care that the folks in marketing have called it the definitive guide. You have your own plan for averting the impending doom of an ice age:

1. Refuse all bags at the grocery story and the mall. Surely this will slow down climatic doom till after you are dead and buried. Plus, you don't really need bags. Proof? You have been shopping at Costco for eons. All you need is a good, sturdy cart. Plastic or metal? That's easy! The plastic is not nearly as cold to the touch--and a shopping cart would never end up in the landfill like a silly plastic bag or water bottle...
2. Learn to cook with zucchini. Sure, zucchini are nature's most disgusting food and taste like paper when left to their own devices. But zucchini are the rabbits of the plant world--reproducing with wild abandon. If you can grow one, you will grow a million and find yourself feeding an entire tribe for the winter. With zucchini you could even eat through the long, dark winter of the coming ice age!
3. Purchase an island get away. As soon as the ice age threatens to descend, jump on the first available flight to Hawaii. Bring a shopping cart full of zucchinis and you will undoubtedly be welcomed with open arms by the locals, who will be more than happy to share their water, rum and sunscreen.

This guide isn't for you, you've got it going on! It's for yokels.

Like me. People who read Animal Farm at an impressionable age, know for sure that some pigs are more equal than others, and worry that we'll need one heck of a leg up when Napoleon takes over the glacier.

Perhaps, if you are feeling smart and generous, you can let the rest of us know the secret to surviving the long, dark winter ahead?

The Answer My Friend is on the TV, the Answer is on the TV!

For generations, fish and wildlife officials, as well as hosts of TV's Animal Planet and Wild Kingdom, have been tagging large (and edible) beasts, fitting them with ear tags and collars of various sorts.

This clearly makes radar the first, and potentially most essential, tool of the coming ice age! Bring a tracker--instant dinner! Camera crew optional...

In preparation for impending doom, you may want to:

• Spend extended periods of time watching the tagging of edible critters on TV. Use an atlas to mark areas where such activities are popular.
• Study your map for patterns to identify the best place to find tagged animals in the event of a hunting emergency.
• Make an effective transportation plan to deliver you to the hunting grounds as soon as the ice age sets in. Be sure to accumulate sufficient fuel, food, water and other essentials to make your migration without delay or adversity.
  
• If there is an ocean between you and the hunting grounds, make air travel plans as soon as possible. Don't forget to apply for a visa--and I don't mean the credit card! You may not want to disclose your radar equipment to customs officials, just in case they want to horde easy prey for the locals.
  
• Check out Wikipedia for cooking instructions (just in case you are not fluent in roasted wild boar or barbecued baboon).

Thanks Mutual of Omaha, for insuring our future!

What other wonders of TV entertainment can we leverage for own future survival? Survivor and Man vs. Wild may just be Hollywood's contribution to the survival of the species...what can we learn from those?

Impending Ice Age Revealed in Change of Season

For the second year running, we here at InnerNeanderthal (and by "we" I mean one middle aged neanderthal goddess named Krista) were distracted by the allure of spring and then summer.

We would like to report that we were kept from blogging by organic farming in the backyard, smoking local delectibles such as oysters and salmon, and laying in (or is it laying down?) provisions for the winter. But with the exception of a nice roasted tomato sauce with frizzled basil and garlic thanks to Safeway and generous green-thumbed friends, we accomplished no such thing.

Rather, we contemplated life after the death of one's laptop and the loss of one's jump drive. And we learned a bit about naturopathy, energy healing and the value of a good facial.

For the second year running, we find that the leaves are turning too soon, wind storms belonging in January have arrived with the big yellow school bus, and skiing is now a mid-autumn sport, rivaling football for relevance on a Sunday afternoon.

As in past years, these new and yet some how chronic realizations have motivated us here at InnerNeanderthal, to fire up the desk top and get back to work, leaving me to contemplate, what other positive outcomes will the coming ice age bring?

Welcome back! Hope your summer was magnificent and drought-free.

The End of Civilization as We Know It!

It's the end of civilization as we know it. As a result of the recent snowstorms here in Washington's capital city:

• Mail service was suspended by one full week. I waited for two helpless weeks, tracker number in hand, for my Amazon.com box to arrive!


• There was no trash pick up for two weeks. Happily, residents will not be charged for extra bins out when service resumes.


• The local high school will not reconvene for...a while. The recent roof collapse (precipitated by snow) caused flooding throughout the building (apparently the pipes that feed the sprinkler system broke). And for reasons I cannot fully comprehend, natural gas lines must be relocated.

No mail, no trash, no public education. This is in addition to impassable roads, the worst plowing and sanding on record, and complete failure of the public transportation system. The end of civilization, I say!

At first, it seemed like an amusing commentary on snow in the northwest. But now it is snowing again.

Not just fluffly little flurries, but swirling, pelting, blinding snow whipped up by winds that make the trees creak in frightening ways. And as I slipped on my sherling boots, zipped into my LLBean all-weather parka and strapped on my faux-fur mad bomber hat in order to go out for provisions, I realized the change has come.

We have a new climate here in the Northwest, and we are utterly unprepared. One tiny snow storm has revealed how quickly the ice age can become the Dark Age all over again.

Already I miss the traditional Western Washington Winter, with its 40 days and 40 nights of unabated rain--and all the promise of civilization that implies!

A Man for All Things

When I was young, virginal and deluded, I imagined that one man could meet all my needs.

But now I recognize that in a time of climatic catastrophe I require more. Much more.

A tribe, in fact. The only question now is how to make that work.

I started by sharing this realization with my husband of 23 years. He was a little shocked, but I asked simply, "Do you want to be the man who hunts for moose, shoots them dead with no help from Sarah Palin's heliocopter, and then skins them?"

"No," he admitted. "I'd rather not be that man."

"Okay," I said, "I'll find one of those. Now, how about shooting people? I doubt you want to be the man who stands out at the edge and shoots marauders to protect me?"

Much to my surprise, he said: "I would do that!"

Really? Twenty-two years of marriage and I never knew!

So, now that I know that I have my own personal National Guard (apparently he's even had weapons training!) I can focus my attention on hunters, gatherers, healers and engineers.

The question is, what else do I need to complete my tribe, and how shall I break them in to do my bidding?