Monday, November 11, 2002

I’m glad I got to

I’m glad I got to work early on Thursday and that I worked through lunch and focused on my burgeoning duties and obligations.  By doing so I justified departing for home one hour early, time enough to ride the bus through the first real storm of the season, high winds and hard rain, to get a haircut (Dick’s International, number 1 blade, hot foam and a backrub), hit the bank, get a burrito (Gordo’s regular carnitas with pintos, salsa fresca, guac, red and green sauces and jalapenos), get the dry cleaning, and get home to walk the (reluctant) dog - and then to enjoy said burrito as I channel-fanned - following which I injected the cat with insulin and started packing - pulled out my clothes and tux and studs and grip and all - all laid out on the bed.  Then the power went out.  I stood in the dark, confused and blind.  It was clear what had happened - the wind was so furious boughs were being torn off trees all up and down the street.  It had happened back in ‘95 when a similar storm blew out the huge glass Conservatory of Flowers a few blocks from my home - only now reaching the final phases of reconstruction.  That blackout lasted three days.  I hoped this one wouldn’t but who knew.  I dug up some tealights to provide a little illumination, and packed by candlelight.  It took longer than it would have ordinarily; I had to handle every item carefully, touching where it touched the other items, sensitive to tiny adjustments and economies.  The dog seemed nervous; I went with him up front and we comforted each other as rain lashed the windows and sirens howled insistently against the wind.  Our 65 cm balance ball kept rolling over to us as we moved about the room, cuddling up with us as if in need of warmth it could not feel or impart.  Kel’s class in Marin was cancelled when their lights went out as well and she drove home through screaming gales, accidents and tree litter everywhere - and noticed that, despite her own experience, all the other lights in other towns and neighborhoods along her twenty mile drive were working fine, except until she got back home and saw that our blackout was limited to one side each of two blocks - our and the one just to the north, extrordinary specificity.  We talked and drank (a rum for her and scotch for me, as we are at present out of bourbon) by candlelight and I set my wristwatch alarm for 4 am.  At midnight the power came back on; the bedroom was flooded with lights not turned off, cd player still spinning… I got up and shut down, got back into bed, woke up when my wristwatch started chirping.  The power was still working and I made my flight without further incident—but it felt as if the trip had started before I even left my home.