The portable storage unit is typically used for two things: moving (of course) and for onsite storage. I wanted to go a bit deeper and find some unconventional uses for the container, which would require some field work. I was puzzled at first about the idea of an economic and social collapse because the world doesn’t seem all that bad at all: low poverty rates, lots of people are reading, and they are living much longer. I soon learned that ‘prepping’ is not necessarily about the crippling fear of everything dissolving into anarchy, it’s about the natural pursuit of survival. It isn’t something grounded in particulars like “global trends” or “realistic portrayals of natural catastrophes,” it’s about basic, instinctive, grass-roots preparation and survival. If this quest for survival is a never-ending pursuit of progress, I would like to introduce the next step in this process: The Mobile Attic Portable Storage Unit, with its sleek design and durable construction. Putting those hunting and gathering tools to the test, I sent an email over to a local prepper, Henry, to get some ideas about how I could incorporate our storage containers into the world of doomsday prepping (and before anyone asks, yes Henry is totally a real person*)
*Henry is totally NOT a real person
I pulled up to a two bedroom, brick home in a rural area, surrounded by the occasional tree and half-finished picket fence. Behind the property, I spied a few large metal storage sheds. If those things had anything to do with doomsday prepping, I could work it into the portable storage plan. Henry met me outside and took my hand with a firm, calloused shake. Henry was on the bigger side, with plaid draped over his frame and khakis cuffed to show off his steel-toed boots. After exchanging pleasantries (and giving him our quote information just in case), Henry invited me into his home and toward his table to eat.
Oatmeal. Not even like the thick stuff you can make in the microwave. This was like an oatmeal soup. I slowly took a few spoonsful into my mouth as I watched Henry drink down the entire bowl. I pushed the bowl to the side and began to ask him a few questions. The first thing on the agenda was something Henry called his ‘vault,’ essentially an aluminum lined pantry that contains gold, books, various electronics, soap and honey because he believed that an EMP (electro-magnetic pulse) could knock out electricity and he needed to make sure some of the electronics would be safe. The lightbulbs flash in my head again as I think about the aluminum storage containers. This was all coming together quite nicely and I was sure I found my unconventional use—on the first try, no less. I had a different idea about what to store inside the container.
“Envision this with me, Henry,” I said with a confident, matter-of-factly tone, “the world is all about technology and data and etcetera. Some of the most important and in-demand jobs involve computers. What do all computers have in common?” I paused and stared up at Henry’s clueless, unamused face, but continued anyway. “Keyboards, man. Everybody has a keyboard. In a post-doomsday society, why would people exchange gold and money for items? Those things represent the structure that failed us. Let’s leave those things in the past with Empire and the VHS. The keyboard represents a valuable commodity, and you are likely to own several if you have the technical know-how. This would mean—now stay with me here—this would mean technological knowledge becomes equal to wealth: we would just use the keys of the keyboard for currency. This kind of knowledge would be SUPER useful if the world collapsed around us. Thoughts?” Henry stared at me awkwardly. There was nothing behind his eyes but a spark of disapproval. “But an EMP would make computers useless,” Henry whispered in a confused tone. I stared back awkwardly before pretending to write a few things down on my notepad. We quickly moved on.
Stocking for the End of the World
Henry escorted me outside and we walked to one of the metal sheds in the back. He took the rusted lock from the door, giving me a look inside. There wasn’t much to look at. The shed was filled with bags and bags of oats. The sea of tan gave me a headache, and a stomachache as I remembered the meal from earlier. Henry explained that he has enough oats here to last about 5 years. I tried to push the thought of eating that many oats out of my head and thought about some alternatives for the Mobile Attic storage unit. I reminded myself to check online for the prices of freeze dried foods in bulk. I scrawled on the notepad like a madman as Henry stood in silence, scratching the top of his head.
I had the idea of opening and running a post-apocalypse store right out of the storage container, selling canned goods, water, and beef jerky to people who come from miles around, desperate for a meal. I would be, in a sense, be the supplier of the new world. I scrawled this on my notepad, clutching the pencil like a caveman chiseling the first ever magnum opus. I drew a nice picture of me inside the storage unit with all my supplies, because it helps to visualize your goals. Henry showed me a few other things (his baseball card collection, a system of underground tunnels with an advanced ventilation system, his marigolds) but I was too excited to get started with the prepping. I thanked Henry and went home to check the internet for prices.
Long story short, I did a quick look online for freeze dried foods and found (with the addition of several other supplies) that the total exceeded several thousands of dollars. It was in that moment I realized the genius of the oats (my mother always told me they were filling, as they ‘stuck to your bones’). It would be much easier just to put my stuff in a storage container and ship it to another part of the state that didn’t have an issue with EMPs. With that, my quest continues.
(We strongly advise against storing food inside the containers. The measures are strictly for doomsday) ~JB