You have a doomsday bunker. Now what?
I got my driver’s license when I was 17 something. At the time, we lived in Denver, Colorado.
Some of my memories back then include getting lost on different back roads, late at night (or early morning) to whatever place my belated teenager-rebellious mind decided: a nightclub, a promised passionate encounter from Craig’s List, or to clear my head at times.
I had a laminated map in the car that showed Denver and its boroughs on one side and a bigger area that included Colorado Springs to the south if I recall. There were times I had to stop, lost, tracing my route under a street light somewhere at hours that probably made the residents of those sleepy neighborhoods worried. That survived plenty of coffee spills and also served as a tray when I got fast food on my way.
It was just a map: I didn’t think of it much. Everyone had one, and every gas station sold one. It’s one of those items that disappear from your life, and you don’t even notice until several years have passed.
The other day, I had a conversation with a co-worker at the office about some old technologies, and I brought up that map. He nodded in agreement: he, too, went through similar experiences when he grew up. We reminisced over tape recorders and CDs (I had one of those plastic converters from my CD player to my car’s tape radio; I often made my own mixes back then). Today, people are lost without their phones or perhaps a dedicated GPS device.
I don’t drive today, and I don’t own a car (for a New Yorker, a car is a luxury), but I’m pretty sure it’s not as easy to get a map these days, depending on where you live. The last time I asked for one on a trip a couple of years ago, I received a shrug from a confused teen over the counter.
It’s one of those “back in my day…” things. But what happens when the phone’s dead? When there’s no reception? When you didn’t pay the bill? I can read a map (and I think most folks who’d pick up a paper map will be able to as well), but the concept of having a map made of paper is dying - I don’t think “kids these days” will even know to ask for one.
Naturally, the same can be said about many things. Our lives are becoming increasingly automated, one way or another. Nothing seems as complicated because it’s just a matter of learning a different app or asking chat GPT a different question. Meanwhile, places like these or these are disappearing, and skills that took generations to hone die with them.
It makes me think about the post-apocalyptic books and shows I read and watch. After we emerge from the ashes, we will have to relearn skills we knew generations ago but forgot. What would Zack Zuckerberg and his family do when they emerge from their doomsday bunker? program a new social network from sticks and stones?