The Walking Dead
I’d visited this Target before but this time was different. I saw the weaknesses: wide-windowed doors and an open floor plan. But I could manage those, if it happened while I was here. First, I’d pile some heavier displays and a tangle of shopping carts in front of the doors. Then, I’d block off all but one entrance – a windowless door in the back. Maybe booby trap it.
I walked the aisles, noticing what I’d need (canned goods, first aid, heavy clothing) and what would be useless (ipads, televisions, printers). For the first time I looked up. I wondered if there was space in the ceiling or maybe access to the roof (since the dead can’t climb). A place to hole up with supplies and wait, raiding the store as needed. It could work. But if I’m trapped in here with these people and their families, who can I trust? Who has the skills to help us survive the zombie apocalypse?
Remember the feeling of leaving a theater after an intense movie. You see the world through the eyes of the characters. The meanings of things are changed. You’re in a fog of double vision: the world that is and the world that was just a moment ago. Before I entered that Target, I had just listened to Mikal kHill’s new album “The Walking Dead”. But it’s no album, it’s an audio movie.
“The Walking Dead” tells the story of a zombie outbreak. One that takes Mikal’s family and leaves him on the run. He finds and loses friends, fights the undead, tries to survive, surrenders hope and gains purpose along the way. At the end, he makes the only decision a family man could make.
This is not an album you put on shuffle or skip to your favorite tracks and play over and over. This is an album you always start at the beginning and listen through to the end, carefully, because you know you missed something before. You look for clues, for hope, for understanding. And then, when you are done, you walk out of your own mental theater and look at the world differently for a time.