Don’t forget essentials when packing for desert island

You know how people always ask what you’d take with you if you were stranded alone on a desert island?

Nope, that’s not a typo. So, by the by, what is a DESERT island, exactly?

Is it like the Sahara — only smaller and plopped in the middle of the Dead Sea. Because, I’m thinking, if it’s mostly sand, any other sea might effectively obliterate it in a single, hellacious hurricane. Sort of like rapid-fire erosion. I digress.

Either way, for the purposes of this particular discussion, let’s say our island is a little less desert and a little more deserted. And lushly tropical. NOW, we’re talkin’.

The notion, traditionally, is that you’d have sunshine, serenity and solitude in seaside surroundings — the stuff of dream vacations, I suppose.

When asked, a good number of the humans listed these fine selections as their preferred provisions on this paltry yet picturesque paradise: (Yeah that one took me a minute.)

● Satellite phone;

● Bug spray;

● Sunblock;

● Fishing poles, nets, supplies;

● Flashlight (solar-powered);

● Hammock;

● Raft;

● Matches.

Now for an oddball such as myself, I’d also add the following:

● Soaps — hand and body should suffice since I’m guessing I can clean any clothes I bring in the body soap?;

● Razors — Dude, nobody wants underarm or leg stubble in such a soupy climate, speaking of which…

● Hair ties — this mop in that humidity? Yikes!

● My favorite books;

● Lots of shorts and tankinis — and maybe a sweater, in case the nights get chilly. Ooh, and a rain slicker!

● Flip-flops;

● A solar-powered laptop;

● My journal;

● Some means of making / having coffee;

● My PK core food staples like flavored seltzer water, rice cakes, pita pockets and tuna packets. Yeah, I get the irony, but it’s MY island fantasy, so back off already!

Oh, and of course, dark chocolate Hershey Kisses. They’re actually even more delicious when slightly melted, so we should be good there.

Hmm, then again, if it’s that hot, wouldn’t I need a cooler full of ice?

Ooh, and what about my Coke Zero? I can’t go anywhere without my Coke Zero, yo.

Then again, that begs the question of bringing cups… and utensils. Oh, and cleaning supplies.

Although I’m unclear on what I’ll need to be cleaning other than myself, the aforementioned casual wear and any of the natural foods in, on and around the island.

Er, what are the accommodations at this place? I mean, is there any chance I might find a sturdy tiki hut on this little land mass? Or perhaps some neatly hulled cave with, say, some running water and a private potty?

Maybe I should add blow up mattress to that list. And some toilet paper. And a blankie. This place is sounding more problematic than paradise. Hmm.

Speaking of this uninhabited hot spot, I get that there aren’t earthlings, but should I be expecting any particularly menacing animal encounters? If so, should I bring like, a machete? Or a Taser?

OK, now I’m flashing to Tom Hanks’ character in “Castaway” … and even though he made it, that deal was more nightmarish than noontime nappish, if memory serves.

I’m kind of rethinking this whole dream vacay, ‘kay? In fact, it sort of makes quarantine sound like an extended stay at the Ritz Carlton.

Stay home with your Keurig, Netflix and fuzzy slippers and help slow the spread already, capisce?

Kimerer is a columnist who’s perfectly happy with four walls and a roof, thank you. Check out her homey blog at www.patriciakimerer.com.


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