Power
Yesterday morning, a fifteen-minute storm of biblical proportions ruthlessly thrashed the city of Chicago. What it lacked in duration was made up for in amplitude; for a good quarter-hour, our poor lil’ town was battered so violently, I couldn’t see past our neighbor’s backyard. When the torrent let up, I learned why people say “the calm after the storm.” The winds dropped from eighty miles-an-hour to zero. The power went out.
(our neighbor’s fence)
I didn’t think it would be out long—normally after a storm, they get it back on relatively fast. I tried to go back to sleep but soon noticed the first and certainly not least effect of no power: no air-conditioning. I feel a little bit obnoxious saying that, because out of all the devices and technologies us privileged Americans (Chicagoans, specifically) weren’t able to use that day, air-conditioning is easily the one I’ve most overlooked as a privilege. It’s one that most people don’t have on any given day. But I still couldn’t sleep.
I got up, went downstairs. Normally on a lazy summer day, my little brother Sammy and I will greet the sunshine with an Xbox skirmish or two (or three…). We were out of cereal. I couldn’t really open the fridge, anyway. I just sat, and decided to roll my dice on how long the power would be out. I started using the charge of my only electrical delicacy and played a game of Tiny Wings.
Later in the day, as my phone’s battery dwindled and our house’s temperature slowly rose, I actually got happier. From the bike ride we took around our neighborhood, and the dozens of trees we saw, injured, colossal limbs severed, it became clear that it would be awhile before the almighty juice was restored. We accepted it, and lit candles. It was fun and in our neighborhood’s air stood the scent of camaraderie.
I missed my orthodontist appointment. (Luckily, their office had lost power, too, so I didn’t really miss it.) We went to our good friend Sheba’s salon to get haircuts, as planned, and dined at Chicago’s greatest deli-dining establishment, Manny’s. That night, at home, we set up camp in our basement by lantern and slept in one, colder-than-all-the-others room. Despite finding a bug on the floor, next to my head, I was happy.
When I think back and self-psychoanalyze myself, as I have a habit of doing on this log-of-the-web, I don’t think that I got happier because there was no electricity, or, really, electronics. I wasn’t happier because I wasn’t burdened with the enormous stress of a totes poppin’ social life, because I still had my phone, and [on it] responded to emails, and read tweets. I think I was happier because the time we spent without power was a bubble, and it was definite. We may not have known when it would come back on, but we had a pretty good idea (within the next few days, at most). Knowing that it would at all was enough of a bookend to let us know, also, what we had to do: enjoy.
There wasn’t really much else to do, but to go for a bike ride, eat at Manny’s, read a book. Yes, these are all things we can do with electricity. They are things that we do do with electricity. The difference was imaginary. Even though our situation wasn’t actually life-threatening, the excitement of it all was enough to make it feel like survival. Survival is simple: stay alive, and if you can, enjoy. We had no trouble staying alive, so all we could do was enjoy. Because that time, without any power, was a somewhat unambiguous bubble of time, our sole purpose was to enjoy. It’s the same reason you’re happy on vacation, and maybe even at school or work: you know your purpose. To relax, to consume knowledge-nuggets, to act passive-aggressively to your boss. When the power’s out, to enjoy.
Isn’t that our purpose, all the time? That may be a bit too deep… It is the question. I’m not sure if I believe “enjoy” is the answer. I think something less self-centered makes more sense. “Enjoy and help others enjoy.” I don’t know. It was fun when the power was out.