My Scottish/British-American boyfriend and I decided we'd spend the end of the world at one of the most beautiful spots in the Rocky Mountains; Glenwood Springs, Colorado. It has a huge outdoor swimming pool full of the sulphurous-smelling water, immediately verifying its lauded status as a natural source of mineral water that bubbles up naturally from the ground. There are also natural red rock caves catering to the modern "spa aficionado", with requisite red clay treatments and New Age "healing" massages.
I'd finally convinced my old-fashioned father to get one on a previous trip there with my ex, and he and his second wife chose to get the "Couples Massage" together, which meant that the poor female masseuse working that day had to spread clay on them one at a time, in front of each other in the nude, and these were people who still thought sleeping together in the same bed was kind of risque. But, it established a pattern of deep tissue massage that my father would continue after that initial exposure to the traditional healing arts, and I'm glad. He's had bad back problems for most of his adult life.
The underground red rock caves dripped with the natural mineral water that'd been used since ancient times by the Ute Indians for healing, so we figured the place must be steeped in good "juju" (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juju). What better way to go out than in the middle of a natural American wonder? It seemed apt to us that if the world ended, we'd be floating weightlessly in a huge body of mineral water that made you seem lighter, like floating in the Dead Sea, looking up at the great Milky Way stars burning brighter in the high dark skies of the rural west.
Then, after we'd accepted our part in this "New World Order", we'd fight our way to my dad's ranch in West Texas, "Mad Max"-style (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mad_Max). Kent and I figured on the drive there that natural gas for our vehicles would be the most precious resource during the upcoming "Apocalypse", so we'd probably have to fight off marauders from stealing our fuel for the ride through New Mexico to the panhandle. There, we'd steal onto my dad's ranch to await our fate(s). After all, Kent had installed a solar-powered unit for my dad's use at the small shack they had on the ranch that could run A/C and water. That, and the solar water pumps on the property combined with my dad's cattle could take us to the very end, if we played it right. My pops also had land that'd been used by the ancients for long-term living.
There were dripping overhangs and small streams that had huge rocks with the circular indentations from the pounding of wheat over millennia. If they could do it back then, so could we. We came from them, too. We'd feel it stirring in our blood, the will to survive off the land: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/West_Texas#/media/File:Palo_Duro_Canyon_State_Park_2002.jpg. We'd be completely off the maps of the known western world. Let 'em find us buried deep in the canyons somewhere, safe in our ranch land stronghold.
In preparation for our requisite battle(s) on our route to "nowhere", we'd obviously have to have weapons, so Kent put his big elk-hunting guns in the back of his big red truck, with a couple of red containers full of gasoline, in the event of a total annihilation that knocked out all of the power sources on the planet. Of course, we're working class people, so the night before "the big event", we were asleep before 10:30 pm. Oh, well. I'd never really had it in me to stay up past midnight just to drink a beer or a glass of champagne at midnight. Who cares? We could that whatever we wanted to, not just New Year's Eve. So, we said our "good nights" to each other, and we were fast asleep soon; such is the effect of swimming in a natural hot spring all day long.
Since it was wintertime, you'd have to do a quick hop from the big hot pool to the smaller really hot tub while sporting a knit cap, but that was about it. Above a mile high, the sun is still very warm, even in the middle of a Coloradan winter. We had fun looking at this one cute lil baby floating in a little plastic inner tube for adorable baby girls wearing striped knit caps on their "widdle" baby heads, laughing and splashing with her mama as she floated around the big pool like we did. We smiled, and rested at the edge of the pool. Not a bad way to go. We'd done it! We'd made the end of the world "cool" without even really trying to, just like every other thing my generation has had to survive and endure at the hands of others who should have known better. But, that's the way it was. We had to survive, so we did.
As we woke up the next day to a bright sunny day, Kent immediately checked the digital alarm clock as I turned on the t.v. in the motel room for the news. Nope! No apocalypse. Oh. We'd figured that it wouldn't happen, what with our computer skills for reference and the amount of time to prep for the changing of so many digital clocks that folks had to get right, but, you never know! Best to be prepared. We turned to each not speaking. "I'm a little disappointed..." I began tentatively. Kent immediately brightened up. "Me, too!" and he went on to say, "I was kinda looking forward to fighting my way out of it. I mean, I know we'd win." Yeah, you're right. We would have. Sigh...
We got dressed, had a big pancake breakfast dinner at Denny's, then rolled out of town for the drive back to Denver to pick up Teddy from the kennel. And just like that, we'd begun planning the rest of our work week. After all, the newspaper didn't wait for me, and neither did the power supply that was still working off a functioning grid for his electrical work. "No rest for the weary" they say, but the thing of it was this: we'd never felt more well-rested in all of our lives. We had a great plan, and we'd been kinda looking forward to executing it with excellence, just like every other thing that demanded our attention and skills. That's the job. That's what we did then, and that's what we do now. We work our way out of it, because we can. For you. All of you.
for Kent
When I wake up, well, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you
When I go out, yeah, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you
If I get drunk, well, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you
And if I haver, hey, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's havering to you
But I would walk five hundred miles
And I would walk five hundred more
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles
To fall down at your door
When I'm working, yes, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's working hard for you
And when the money comes in for the work I do
I'll pass almost every penny on to you
When I come home (When I come home), oh, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who comes back home to you
And if I grow old, well, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you
But I would walk five hundred miles
And I would walk five hundred more
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles
To fall down at your door
Da lat da (Da lat da), da lat da (Da lat da)
Da-da-da dun-diddle un-diddle un-diddle uh da-da
Da lat da (Da lat da), da lat da (Da lat da)
Da-da-da dun-diddle un-diddle un-diddle uh da-da
When I'm lonely, well, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's lonely without you
And when I'm dreaming, well, I know I'm gonna dream
I'm gonna dream about the time when I'm with you
When I go out (When I go out), well, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you
And when I come home (When I come home), yes, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who comes back home with you
I'm gonna be the man who's coming home with you
But I would walk five hundred miles
And I would walk five hundred more
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles
To fall down at your door
Da lat da (Da lat da), da lat da (Da lat da)
Da-da-da dun-diddle un-diddle un-diddle uh da-da
Da lat da (Da lat da), da lat da (Da lat da)
Da-da-da dun-diddle un-diddle un-diddle uh da-da
Da lat da (Da lat da), da lat da (Da lat da)
Da-da-da dun-diddle un-diddle un-diddle uh da-da
Da lat da (Da lat da), da lat da (Da lat da)
Da-da-da dun-diddle un-diddle un-diddle uh da-da
And I would walk five hundred miles
And I would walk five hundred more
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles
To fall down at your door
