The point not being zombies

This week, KRTV in Great Falls and a handful of other television and radio stations broadcasted an unscheduled emergency alert system warning to the public about a zombie attack. Yes, an all-out zombie attack with the dead rising from their graves and attacking the live folks. The alert came courtesy of unknown hackers who targeted stations who hadn't bothered to change their default password in their computer systems.

As funny as all that is, that's not what I'm here to talk about.

I do want to point out that this hoax is a good reminder to re-evaluate your friendships.

You do decide who your true friends are by the Zombie Apocalypse Team Method, right? I don't have any friends who wouldn't be useful or downright heroic should zombies truly arise and attempt to take over the world one brain-sucking incident at a time.

That said, I don't know why my useful-skill-set-endowed friends would want me on their team unless sarcasm and swearing are secret weapons against the undead. Or — and I guess I'm OK with this — I'm like Chick #3 who diverts the zombie's attention or warns the team of the zombie's proximity with her untimely death.

You know what I'm talking about, right? How action-adventure programs always have a minor character, usually listed in the credits as something like "Chick #3" or "Guy in sweatshirt" or "Unnamed crew member," who dies in such a manner that it gives the hero characters time to save the day.

I could make that sacrifice of myself — we are talking about my friends — but I would like, at least, to go down mouthing off in some way. Maybe yelling a catchy catch-phrase to remember me by.

But, y'know, that isn't really what I wanted to talk about, but before I move on, let's give a shout out to that annoying early warning system noise.

Rrrrrnnt, Rrrrrnnt, Rrrrrnnt ... .

Wouldn't it be awesome to be able to utilize that sometimes in your daily personal life?

Like when you're crabby, you can warn people of an impending meltdown.

They'd be all, like, "And another thing — you are a big, stupid blah blah bl—"

"Rrrrrnnt, Rrrrrnnt, Rrrrrnnt ... this an Emergency Alert. You are dangerously close to being splattered with oogy gray matter as this person's head is about to explode with anger. Do not try to make this situation better with more words blah-blah-blahing. Simply run for your life."

I've had times in larger stores when I can't find an item and I can't find an employee to help either, and I want to just stand there shrieking "Help! Help me! Aaaagh! Heeelp!!"

But, unfortunately, that's against the law, like how you can't scream "Fire!" in the movie theater.

It really is too bad because I'm sure you'd get the best help possible. The people who know how to act in an emergency and not just freeze up, or not care that someone is in distress — the kind of person you'd want on your zombie apocalypse team, or to find a 500-count pack of Q-tips, which is why you were screaming for help in the first place.

But that's kind of beside the point, because the only reason I brought this whole thing up is to point out that you should change your default passwords so you don't get hacked.

Just saying.