Is it a coincidence that just as we were heading into Passover, Illinois was preparing for a plague of cicadas? The Jewish holiday, as you may know, commemorates the bible story about the Israeli people’s departure from Egypt after God sent 10 plagues to the pharaoh as a means of persuading him to let them go.
Since we’ve now lived in Naperville for 17 years, this will be the second time we’ll be experiencing a larger-than-normal influx of the noisy insects. We’d been here only three months when we first encountered a bumper crop of these horrid little creatures, the aim of which seems to be to make as much noise as possible while dropping out of the skies all around you.
It’s little wonder I’m reminded of the bible story, particularly the plague of locusts part of it. And it got me to thinking that maybe it’s time to update the plagues. Forget the lice, boils and rivers turning to blood. Thousands of years later, perhaps these would be more appropriate:
Loss of the internet. Imagine arriving at the office, switching on your computer and finding there’s no internet. Everyone’s nightmare, I know. Trying not to panic, you consider emailing the IT department before realizing that’s not going to work. And checking your social media to see if anyone else is affected isn’t either. Oh, no — there’s no contact with the outside world at all! Without internet, all lines of communication are lost. You might actually have to speak to someone face to face.
Traffic jams. Giving up on being able to do any work, you head home. Driving away from the office, you see traffic ahead of you backed up for miles. While this is normal for anyone commuting to Chicago, you are only using the streets of Naperville. Cars are jammed solid along every roadway and in every cul-de-sac. People are beeping their horns and shouting out of car windows. After several hours, you abandon your car to take refuge in the nearest grocery store.
Full parking lots. While the lots around our grocery stores are so vast you can always find somewhere to park, even late on Christmas Eve or the night before Thanksgiving. But not if there’s a plague of cars jamming the Jewel parking lot. Maybe it’s a good thing you abandoned your car.
Grocery store reorganization. Hoping to grab a few food items to see you through the aforementioned plagues, you head to the canned soup aisle only to find it stocked with cleaning products. Thinking you’ve made a mistake, you learn the whole stores been changed and there’s nothing but toilet paper where the cereal used to be and pet food now fills the cookie and cracker shelves.
No cashiers. You’ve finally managed to track down your groceries, plus a few rolls of toilet paper just in case, only to find all the cashiers’ registers are closed and the only option is the self-service check-out area. Astonishingly, all the stickers on the fruit are wrong so you end up paying for four cantaloupes and a pineapple instead of four avocados and a peach. You try to call an assistant for help but they’re all busy discussing the difference between a turnip and a rutabaga.
The return of winter. You’re sure it was a pleasant April day when you entered the store, yet an hour later it’s cold and snow is falling. You don’t recognize this as a plague because it feels like your average Illinois spring.
Total eclipse of the sun. Struggling home through the snow with your groceries, you see a group of people looking up at the sky. They’re wearing strange looking glasses, which can only mean one thing — they’ve just watched a 3D movie and forgotten to take them off. While an eclipse may sound like a fun, positive way to bring the world together, the endless stream of warnings from TV anchors about protecting yours eyes is not. For once, you’re actually pleased not to have internet because it means you can’t watch TV.
Insomnia. At the end of a busy yet strange day, it’s time for bed. This time the plague of the middle-aged woman descends on everyone. No one gets a wink of sleep and to make matters worse, there’s no internet to fill your time.
Weight gain. As dawn breaks, you wearily get out of bed and head to the fridge. It’s not time for breakfast, but for your magic weight loss shot. So far, you’ve lost 20 pounds but as you step on the scale you find it’s all back with a bonus three pounds for luck.
Political commercials. Good news, the internet is back! But there are no programs, just a steady stream of political ads, none of which tell you why you should vote for a particular candidate but spew out lots of blatant lies about why you shouldn’t vote for the opposition.
After all of this, you’ll be about ready to do anything God tells you. And all things considered, perhaps the cicadas aren’t as bad as I thought. At least we have sound-canceling headphones and golf umbrellas to protect us.
Hilary Decent is a freelance journalist who moved to Naperville from England in 2007. She can be reached at hilarydecent@gmail.com.
