Could you love a rich, paranoid survivalist?

First the short version. Imagine that you’ve fallen in love with Fred, which is a diminutive for Winifred if you’re a straight man or gay woman, but otherwise is short for Frederick. Fearing the fall of civilization, Fred has spent a fortune on a shelter in which to ride out civil unrest, natural disaster, or the aftermath of nuclear war. Could you remain involved with this person, or do such preparations strike you as crazy?

That’s enough to vote on, I think. For the full version, click the spoiler box:

So you’re six months into happily requited love with Fred (whom I’m going to treat as female from here on in for the sake of simplicity.) Fred, a genius polymath, grew up poor but is currently loaded. At 20, she started her own company, which she sold in her 30s for eleventy jillion bucks. She’s spent the decade since running a foundation that funds college scholarships, homeless shelters, free clinics and so on. Other than being the sole support of the foundation, she doesn’t act like the uber-rich, living on an idle farm in what looks like an ordinary two-story house.

One night, you and Fred are in her living room, cuddling while watching the news. It’s the usual depressing crap: famine here, war there, the other horsemen everywhere. For some reason this makes her pensive, and when the broadcast ends, she asks you to follow her to the master bedroom. There she reveals something so cleverly hidden you’d never have found it without help: the entrance to an elaborate, high-tech underground shelter. There’s an enormous supply of food & water; great stores of medical supplies; tons of fuel, useful gadgets, and tools; and a small cache of weapons & ammo (if you care: three shotguns, three hunting rifles, three assault rifles, three handguns, and archery gear, but nothing military).

After giving you time to take all this in, Fred says:

Which brings us to the thread question? Can you handle Fred’s paranoid preparations? For that matter, do these preparations indicate paranoia to you, or just sound thinking? Do you stay with Fred, or does Snug Harbor strike you as just a bit too cray-cray?

And now you can go hit the poll.

You haven’t really painted Farnham, er, Fred, as nutty and paranoid enough to justify a “no”. It’s not like she/he has spent her/his last dime on the shelter, is starting up a militia in Montana and muttering stuff about admiralty braids on American flags in courtrooms. Lots of people have “bug out” bags and safe rooms. If you have eleventy billion dollars, this represents the kind of prudent thinking that, in a middle class person is represented by keeping an extra shelf of canned goods in the larder.

Why the question, are you trying to fix someone up?

:: flips up Evil!Helmet facemask, takes long slurp of Doctor Pepper ::

That’s one.

Fred has eleventy JILLION dollars, not billion.

If that. Snug Harbor must’ve cost a mint, not to mention the foundation. I edited out a line in the OP that said she was budgeting her spending so that, she lived to 90, she’d die broke.

I voted for “pass me the hasenpfeffer”, which I think makes me a cannibal.

Are you sure that’s not pronounced “Froedrick?”

It doesn’t seem to impact his behavior in any other way. If he isn’t bringing it up all the time, or wearing a tinfoil hat, I honestly don’t see what the problem is.

As long as the person isn’t TOO paranoid, I’d think it harmless quirkiness.

In fact, I think I’d like the person even more. Very prepared, very unique.

This.

I’m sticking with Fred as long as:

  1. He makes some sort of provision for our pets, including my horses, to also be able to survive with us. He’s got eleven jilliony buck; I’m sure he can arrange something.

  2. He’s not creating his own militia in Montana, calling Obama the Anti-Christ, seeking the impeachment of the entire Congress on an oath technicality, or otherwise acting like an constitutionalist a$$hole. :smack:

Considering the fact that, if I had eleventy JILLION dollars, I’d do the same thing, maybe even more, we are sticking together.

Does she have big bressesses?

The OP makes no comment as to Fred’s physical appearance, and nor shall I.

Fred lives on a farm, so the horses clearly wouldn’t be a problem as long as things weren’t bad enough to force y’all into Snug Harbor. In fact, they might be a wise investment. But if you had to actually use the underground shelter or bug out through the tunnel, I doubt taking the horses would be either practical nor kind. Am I wrong?

About dogs and cats I’m less sure. They’d be of help killing vermin in Snug Harbor if it came to it, but if the house were breached and y’all were on the run, I’m less sure. The annoying yappy dog I rescued earlier this year, which my little sister took in, might be a help, having demonstrated that he is capable of killing small game and helping hunt; my older sister’s pampered pet would be worse than useless, and it can’t hunt on its own and runs off at the sound of gunfire. Where are your non-equine pets on that continuum?

Also, it seems unlikely that Fred is that sort of survivalist you menion, given that his sympathies are clearly with the 1%.

All the survivalist types I’ve encountered (a small sample, admittedly) are fucking nuts. You won’t get 6 minutes into a relationship with them without encountering the crazy, much less 6 months. So when I read the thread title, my first reaction was no way, but upon reading the details, I’m fine with Fred.

So does Snug Harbor have books and board games?

On the show Doomsday Preppers, the people with the bug-out houses never seem to have books and board games. Like you’re going to spend ALL of your time in a hand-to-hand duel to the death and cooking dehydrated lentils.

Also, alcohol. I’m going to need alcohol.

As long as there are no rants, no problem. My dad ranted. There were a few things he did in aid of surviving the collapse of civilization, but mostly he talked about it - bitterly.

If Fred can plan for the collapse without ranting or otherwise getting twitchy, I’m good.

I have seen photos of a beautiful equestrian center in the mid-West that has an underground tornado shelter for their horses. Since my beloved has so much money, and spending it to build an underground equestrian facility will employ lots of folks, thereby spreading the wealth, I see no issue. We would need to solve the problem of safely disposing of approximately 70 lbs of manure each day (35 per horse), but it could be composted, with adequate ventilation to avoid the problems of too high a concentration of methane building up. There is also the challenge of storing two years worth of feed, but that can be overcome, too. Again, money will help solve a lot of problems.

As for the non-equine pets, the cat will hunt and, given my druthers, I would get a Rottweiler or two. Rotties, who are usually marshmallows inside, have a definite deterrent effect to those who don’t know them.

You are right about what to do with the animals in the horrible instance of having to leave. The horses could certainly be trained to travel through the exit tunnel and the dog would follow anywhere. Probably the cat would, too. Or, we build a wagon, pulled by horses that carries extra provisions (and the cat).

If you’re using the escape tunnel, you’re not taking the horses. While the horses might be brought belowground for brief periods, as in a tornado, I can’t see keeping them in Snug Harbor for long, and you’re only going through the escape tunnel in the direst circumstances–that is, if the farm were under attack. If you have time to get to the stable, you’re just going to saddle up and ride off; trying to get them into the tunnel is silly. And if the house has been breached by people who want your heads, trying to save the horses is bad FOR THE HORSES.

The dogs and cats are another story. The former you can train, the latter you can carry; they can use the tunnel. But if you’re running for your lives, I think that cart is bad idea for horses you love. Their chances of making it through go down, not up.

Fred, no matter how delightful, is not the only person to whom I have obligations. However futile my actions (and history says, really very futile indeed,) I couldn’t just hop in my life boat and sail away.

I’m really, really, bad at jumping and running, to refer to a different Skald-thetical from many moons ago.