It’s Take a Zombie to Lunch Day, Who’s In?

A lot of people focus on the negative when it comes to zombies, which is just about like human nature, isn’t it?

You would think at this stage of human development we would have found a way to put to one side our distaste for walking dead beings who want to eat us, but no way. I guess we still have some evolving to do, huh?

When you see these ex-people lurching from place to place on the television, nearly everyone else on the screen is fleeing or screaming in horror or looking away as if they suddenly found something interesting over to the right so they don’t have to watch this one fellow they used to go bowling with get devoured.

None of them are expressing the broad personal warmth or inviting nature that you like to see when people and used-to-be-people meet one another.

It’s a reputational or branding problem of some weight and a matter best suited to the advertising professional, but it doesn’t hurt to get the conversation rolling by listing some of the better characteristics of the zombie population.

‘Focus’ is the first thing that comes to mind when I think of this cohort.

At a time when most everyone you know flits from thing to thing, activity to activity, job to job, from barbecue competition this to motorcycle rally that, our friends the zombies quietly go about their work with patience and resolve.

There are only two things that zombies do as near as I can figure out. The first is that they Lurch From Here to There, and the second is that they Eat People.

They have otherwise dismissed superfluity from their lives in order to concentrate on the few things they do best. We can all take a lesson from this. You would think in an age where the specialist rules, the ex-man or ex-woman demonstrating true focus of this nature would get the regard they deserve. Wishful thinking, my friend, wishful thinking.

I’ll say this too for zombies. It’s been my observation that you can watch zombie show after zombie show and never know how these fine ex-people vote. You wouldn’t have a clue! If they have a preferred candidate for County Assessor you wouldn’t know it, and they wouldn’t dream of asking if you’d mind if they put some political signs in your front yard after they eat you. You end up having to absolutely respect the previously-human guy who keeps these things to himself. Hold private things privately, I say.

My goodness. I can’t tell you how much I respect that.

While it would be hard to say with any conviction that they, the zombies, are what you would call positive individuals-previously-known-as-people, I have to say that I have known worse.

They’ve got a lot on their minds – What’s the best way to lurch from here to there? How long is eternity anyway? – and we all have a tendency to snap or to lash out when we are under pressure. Let me just say that I have stood in line at the hardware store or the DMV with many a person of worse temperament.

What else? Let me think.

I knew a couple once, who, if the man was going up to bar at say a wedding reception and made a point of asking the gal if she wanted a glass of wine while he was up there, and then she would say no, and then he would go up there and get this glass of wine – for him, mind you – and bring it back to where they were sitting, and then she would reach over and drink from that glass of wine, and then he would say something like “well for goodness sakes, why didn’t you just ask me to bring you your own glass of wine while I was up there?”’ and then she would say, “oh, I just didn’t,” as if that was any kind of an answer, well, my point to all this is that I have never heard of a zombie doing something like this.

Now, they might eat everyone at the table, but I get the feeling they would think that this wine-poaching ploy was beneath them.

That reminds me, there’s something else I’ve seen done in social settings, but this one calls for a little setup.

Let us take the case of two spouses. Over the years and at many a social function they have perfected the art of getting out of the sticky situation when one or the other of them is approached by a person whose name this one or the other of them has forgotten.

It’s no reflection on the person whose name cannot be remembered, as they look to be the most interesting thing in the world, it is merely that at some times your brain turns into a turnip, and while their name is on the tip of your tongue, that is exactly where it stays.

Well, you can’t call this person Mary as it is just as likely that her name is Trudy and vice versa, and this whole business of saying ‘and how are you doing?’ is getting to the point that she is soon going to catch on, the very last thing you want to happen.

This is where this well-honed marital gambit comes into play.

It is the case now that you would gesture the little lady over and make a point of saying ‘and this is my wife, Betty,’ if that is her name, or you can change it as the circumstances demand.

When this little shtick is working like a dream the little lady sticks her hand out and says, “I’m Betty!” which is the cue for this other person to say “I’m Angela!” or “I’m Monique!” or even “I’m his sister Carol!”

You do everything but smack your forehead, of course it’s Angela or Monique or your sister, man, what a relief, and what a trooper the little lady is for coming through for you in this manner. You shoot her a look of appreciation.

Or you would, if she had come through for you in this manner as planned.

As it turns out there’s been a touch of frostiness in the air between you lately regarding the stereo system that the advertisements assured you you just had to have, and you said to yourself, ‘well, then, I shall have to get it then,’ and it arrives, as does the bill, and the arrival of the latter necessitates some fancy juggling of the bankbook and the checking account and some earnest phone work with the teller at the bank, which, admittedly, she has always had to manage, all this financial stuff, and as a result there has been a certain amount of eye-rolling and bitter looks towards the new stereo system of a nature that suggests that it is not worth nearly what was paid for it.

Nothing serious! Just the type of thing that can come between two strong-willed people from time to time.

But as I say, there is this little thing between you. So when she comes over and you present her to this Mystery Woman, you think to yourself, ‘man, what a good egg,’ except get this, once you have gestured her over she just stands there! She makes no effort at all to draw out the other person’s name! You are in a worse position than you were before!

It is as though she is mentally saying, “why don’t you ask your stereo system what this fine person’s name is? It ought to be able to do that and travel intergalactically besides for the price you paid for it.”

All because this stereo thing has cast the two of you into penury. You’ll cede that point.

 A zombie would never do that, just hang you out to dry like that.

What else?

I have never heard that they were backseat drivers, so that’s a plus.

They eat what is put before them and don’t make a federal production of asking if you have this certain sort of mustard that they are used to, saying it’s gotten so that it just doesn’t seem right to eat anything without a splash of this special mustard. I’ve never heard anything like that said about zombies, another plus.

If they drink all but a few drops of the last bottle of pop in the refrigerator I don’t imagine that they put the bottle back in at that point and say that they left a little pop in there for you to enjoy. Just be a man, I say, and throw the old bottle away and put a new on in there so it can get cold. Sheesh.

In all these shows I have never seen a zombie at a four way stop gesture impatiently for you to go through. Man, that always gets to me, who appointed these guys traffic directors anyway? My point is that I have never seen a zombie do this, another mark in their favor.

So you see, it’s important to not judge a book by its cover. When you look underneath your biases and put to one side your pre-judgments, it’s surprising how much there is to admire about even ex-people who otherwise seem very different from you.