A Dark (but not Stormy) Night

Our collective reliance on electronic devices often leaves me somewhat uneasy. My own dependence was tested when my cable signal disappeared a couple of days ago, leaving me without Internet, TV, and landline for twelve hours. In truth, it wasn’t a calamity. I read a book; I cooked dinner and ran the dishwasher. And when I really, really needed to connect with the cyberworld, I had my cellphone and iPad. So it was a minor convenience at worst.

The next day, however, was a different story. I live inSan Diego, not far from theArizonacity where some bonehead made a critical error at a power station that pulled the electrical plug on nearly 5 million people. For twelve hours. 

Let me make it clear that I AM NOT COMPLAINING. There are people in the East who have endured an earthquake, a hurricane, biblical rains, flooding, and the loss of power for days and, in some cases, weeks. Our mini-crisis in S.D. was not even a blip on the radar compared to what those poor folks have been living through. So, again, these are not complaints—merely observations. 

The most important thing I observed was that being without Internet, TV, and landline has nothing on being without power. At first it was kind of fun. I joined my neighbors outside, where we chatted and commiserated. Michael barbecued hot dogs, and I fixed peanut butter sandwiches (which pair nicely with a crisp Pinot Grigio, I discovered). We helped Melanie climb over her balcony to break into her house because she didn’t have her keys; most of us enter through our garages instead of the front door. But after a few giggles, darkness settled in, we drifted back inside, and that’s when the novelty wore off. 

I quickly realized that my agenda of activities for the evening had only one item: light candles. Once said candles were ablaze, there wasn’t a damned thing to do. I stared out the window for a while, and it was nice to be able to clearly see the planets and stars for a change. I watched a couple of planes take off in the distance and learned later that they were flying empty, simply relocating to another airport. From time to time a car would drive by, always headed into the neighborhood instead of out. How odd to realize that there was no place to go to escape the darkness. 

Eventually I gave up and went to bed. 

A movie I saw years ago came to mind as I lay there wide awake: Poetic Justice, with Tupak Shakur and Janet Jackson. In the movie, Janet Jackson’s character lived in a hellaciously bad Los Angeles neighborhood. At night she would lie on her living room floor with all the lights out, listening to helicopters, sirens, and gunshots. I too could hear helicopters flying overhead and one siren after another. No gunshots, though, and I was grateful that my gravest danger was boredom. 

I finally drifted off to sleep, and when I woke up around 3:00 a.m., the power was back on. Life had returned to almost normal, and our power outage would quickly be forgotten. 

I wish there were a life lesson in here somewhere. Truth is, there’s really nothing I could have done differently, and that makes me uneasy. Being accustomed to the convenience of the Internet and TV is far different from complete dependence on power. I don’t think I’m ready to take the survivalist route: get a generator, stock up on non-perishable food and guns. But I would like to become just a tiny bit more independent of SDG&E. A flashlight that actually works might be a good start.

 

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