Hungry for power

The other evening I was consulting a book in front of my computer

screen with the TV on when there was a sudden “k-zz-zz-t” sound, and

both screens and the book went dark.

Patti Jo and I looked at our circuit breakers and they were still

in the on position, so we walked out front and saw our neighbor

Elaine out there too, and knew that our little group had gone Amish

again.

Up on Alta Laguna Boulevard, there’s a strip of seven houses on

our block which are connected to the same transformer, and

periodically water gets into the transformer and all the power in our

houses goes out.

When this happens, it’s poignant to look across the street and see

the facing homes, bright and merry. On their side, a picture of life

in the developed countries: The refrigerators hum, the TV images

blink -- the lights are on, is my point. But our side is different,

because our transformer takes us back two centuries.

We rely primarily on candles, although sometimes we go high-tech

with a flashlight. We adjust quickly, and soon we don’t miss the TV

because, like our forefathers, we entertain ourselves, inventing new

expressions as we trip over the floor fan.

It’s a great opportunity to get back to nature, if that’s your

taste. As I go upstairs with my candle, I recall my college years,

when my Whole Earth friends talked of how righteous it would be to

live together on a few acres somewhere, throwing pots and grinding

our own cornmeal, using no energy but our own.

I thought they were insane. I didn’t like sandals either, but

that’s for another day.

In the past, the Edison people have re-fused the transformer, a

quick fix that works until water gets in the hole again.

This time, however, they seemed stumped. Two trucks showed up,

pumped the water out, looked things over and left. The street became

quiet. Our side especially.

Our neighbor Stephen went to bed as soon as the lights went out, a

practical reaction. I like to read myself to sleep with the TV on. On

this night I read by candlelight, waiting for the trucks to come

back. The pages were flickery.

I worried about the stuff in the freezer. This always seems to

happen right after I’ve bought root-beer popsicles.

I think they went and got a new transformer, but I’m not sure

because I dozed a bit. The power went back on around 4 a.m., and I

woke up and put on a DVD so I could sleep.

In New Orleans, it was water up to the attic and no power for

weeks. With us it was water in the transformer and no power for 10

hours, so we didn’t really expect FEMA assistance. A few days later

Michael Brown came over, but this one is a friend of Katie’s. He

played video games for awhile. Did a heck of a job, too.

Once we got the electricity back I was so happy that I had to face

something about myself. I hate to admit it, but I love power.