WHOA

Good morning!

Whoa. We've had a Major Incident.

Our power went off yesterday after noon at three:forty p.m.  I was outside trying to cool off, reading Pride and Prejudice out on the back patio. (It wasnt cool!) Theo was just inside glued to the US Open. Suddenly all was silent, and I said, "Don't turn off the TV, go over to Chris Matthews," because we were trying to find out when the President's speech would be on.

He snapped back that he had not turned it off but that if I wanted to change the channel I should come in and do that instead of   "barking out orders," his  favorite phrase for the general range of my deportment.

Finally I realized that the fans were not revolving and that we were in the throes of a power outage.  I ran to the bedroom to grab a portable radio and by the time I got it on KOGO had begun a noble and lengthy reportage of our situation.  No one knew what had happened, nor the extent of the outage. But as the phone calls reeled in, it because apparent that this was no minor or local incident and one felt those prickings of awareness that come at times like this. How prepared are we in case this goes on for some time?

I was all for jumping in the car and driving around to get some air-conditioning, as our house was stuffier than ever without the fans, but was quickly disabused of the illusion that that would be a good idea as more and more callers called in to report massive traffic congestions on all major streets.  When the power went out, many people jumped in their cars to leave work early and head for home, and as a result, many were stranded in their cars like sardines in a tin can, for hours on the streets and highways. 

We had no report of compromised water systems, so I went out and watered the shrubbery and the grass all around the house just in case of fire.  I heard many jackasses shooting off fireworks in the early night, so my caution might have been valuable if anything had caught fire.

I don't know what the traffic was like in CV, but as I was on my porch the neighbors were in their truck driving out and yelled to ask me if we needed anything from the store. I said no thanks, and they zoomed out to look for whatever it was they needed. I understand that ice was going for five dollars a bag in some places.  They returned shortly but I don't know what they found out there.

We hoped for a quick end to our emergency but as time went on we learned the extent of the crisis, as it extended way up into Orange County, east as far as New Mexico, and down into northern Baja California.  The San Onofre "nucular" power plant went offline immediately, raising more antennae in us paranoids, for it suggested a potential for larger scale danger than we were being informed about.

We went to bed early, without lighting one candle. We took flashlights to bed with us. It was beautifully dark and quiet out there.  Wow, what a beautiful night.  I understand that lots of people ate outside, in their gardens or at restaurants, by candlelight. The unpleasant crisis was turned into a time of bonding and celebration.  For us, being old, it was a time for relaxation and snoozing.  By two a.m. enough cool moist air was coming in to make a light cover comfy enough, and when I woke at three, it was to the realization that the streetlights were on and the fans all whirring merrily.  Crisis over. It could have been worse and may yet be so...some lady called the Coast to Coast radio in the night to say that they were packed up to leave for Canada this morning (from Wichita) because her relative who works for Homeland Security had warned her that this power crisis in Southern Californ was the signal for some massive emergency to occur for the whole country.  So this morning as I write this she and her family are driving north, hell for leather. I hope she was kidding. But the fact that I even write this down is indicative of the feelings that can come upon us in this season of historic calamity. YAZZYBEL