Thursday, February 2, 2017

A Man Without Power/How I Survived The Blizzard Of 2011

A Man Without Power/How I Survived The Blizzard Of 2011

A Man Without Power/How I Survived The Blizzard Of 2011
Last night, in the greatest blizzard ever encountered by mankind, we lost power at around 8pm. It soon dawned on us that cable TV would probably be out too. I knew what had to be done and quickly took charge after I finished my Gentlemen Jack and Ginger. Truth be told, it was a Gentlemen Jack and sprite because the ginger ale seemed a bit flat in my first one.

I made arrangements for my family to stay at my neighbors across the street because they are on a different grid and still had electricity. I held them tight and kissed them goodbye. I told my children, Evan, 10, and Julia, 11, to remember me in their hearts and that they had my blessing to eat their mother if they ran out of food and were starving or bored.

My duty was to Captain our home through the stormy waters that lie ahead and should the waves of flurries come crashing in, to guide her gently into that sweet bye and bye, before calling my insurance agent to file a claim.

Recalling the lessons I learned during my years as a parent of a scout, including how to buy a superfast pinewood derby car off of the internet and pass it off as something I made with my son, and to pretend you’re camping when you stay at the Ritz, I wasn’t completely without skills. Besides, in extreme times like these instinct kicks in and I automatically knew I had to build a fire. So I found the flashlight that I hide from the kids and a lighter to ignite the gas starter in my fireplace. Thank goodness I had the foresight to stock up on necessities during the fatter days of fall, and order a second cord of wood from that guy in the truck.

Right then I made a decision to try to persevere, knowing that my resources were limited to my wits, a decent cabernet, and organic Cheetos. The reminders of my plight were constant, including the beeping of my battery backup sump pumps. With a roaring campfire and a good wine buzz, I thought it best to try to get some rest. I hunkered down on the couch under a comforter and Nana blanket, but there was no rest to be had, primarily because of that damn beeping.

During the night, while making rounds inspecting for signs of peril, I happened across some wild animals struggling to survive. I took our Lizard, midget frogs (I mean “little” frogs) and fish to the basement where it seemed to be the warmest. So much for Sir Wayne Newton and his phony baloney laws on gravity and heat rising.

As the night wore on, the fear and solitude began to set in and the awareness that I was drifting from civilization mounted with the fading of each bar of power on my smartphone. It’s true what they say about moments like these where your thoughts become clear and the questions precise. Should I charge my phone in my car or across the street at Jim’s house? Is it necessary to charge my IPod too since it still has 50% of its battery? And what kind of idiot chooses to do the Iditarod? Being cold sucks!

Dressed only in my base layers, marmot thermal fleece pants, smart wool socks, insulated hoodie, and mittens, I tried to maintain my body temperature to make it through the night.

Somewhere in the wee hours I began to feel a strange kinship with the American settlers of western frontier, as many of my experiences of this night mirrored theirs. Realistically I knew that the feeling was one sided for two reasons: 1) I doubted that they had the metal to make it in today’s rough and tumble (Pilates and yoga) world and 2) they’re dead.

As the minutes turned to hours and darkness faded into light my power came back on and cable too.