Not on the subway praise the spirits!
I was deeply into an afternoon of beauty high atop Second Ave. I grew a goatee and grew back all my chest hair (I'm a daddy now) and it all requires maintenence. At least, if you're a grooming freak like I am. So there I was with magnifying mirror and tweezer and a paint brush (don't ask - OK I'm not a daddy) when the TV blinks off. I was a little surprised because while a power failure in your own apartment is de rigeur for every New Yorker you usually know which appliances have to be running for a circuit to trip. It's sort of like that old Green Acres bit. The coffee maker's a 4, the microwave is a 5...and so on. A TV, a fan and a couple lights shouldn't have caused it. Still, I had plenty of light left in the apartment so I calmly finished my work and put everything away intending to contact the "Super" to see if he could flip the circuit. It was only when I went in the bathroom and noticed the lights were dimmed not out did I think "brownout". A quick check of the street confirmed it, or so I thought.
Eventually I made my way downstairs with backpack and camera in tow. By that time many people from the building had already gathered on the front porch huddled around somebody's shower radio. I decided at first I was going to ride around and get some pictures of the streets to document what happened. Right before I left something occurred to me. The bar....My Wife. I had a vague sense that the power went out around 4pm. So at this point it's debatable where in her commute Jabba The Drunk was. She's been so squirrely lately it wouldn't surprise me if she hadn't even left Jersey yet. I had to get to the bar. If she hasn't/ can't get in I'll have to pick up the banner and lead My Girls. Shades of The World Trade Center destruction. So I hop on my bike and set out uptown. I stupidly tried to make it up through Park Ave. and run into hell on earth. 9 million people all trying to get somewhere. And not the same somewhere just somewhere. Pande-fucking-monium despite what anyone else says on TV. I got some pictures but finally decided to get over to the East side and then uptown thinking I'd have an easier time of it. Hah! If anything it was worse. People in cars and on foot and in buses all trying to make their way through tunnels and over bridges and always, always, always.....some jackass in a gypsy cab trying to improve his position by all of 2 feet fucking up three lanes of traffic and accomplishing nothing. It may work in Bangladesh fuckhead but this is New York. I came upon these people at a highway entrance around 48th St with their handmade paper signs with the name of the town they were trying to get to.
I bet it worked. We're good like that. I saw people pile into cars hitching rides with strangers all night. I finally popped out of the giant butthole crowd like the little turd I am at around 57th st. Just in time to see a sea of humans swarming up the ramps of the 59th St. bridge to get the hell out of Dodge.
This exodus went on for hours and hours and hours. I finally arrived at The Wife. She was well managed and in good hands but I had had such an ordeal getting there that a return trip was out of the question. So I hung out till my shift started trying to get news reports on my radio and being of general good cheer. I could have changed clothes if I was willing to take a flashlight down to my storage area, but it was stiflingly hot and I thought, "Buffalo Snow Rules clearly state that during a crisis either man-made or natural, dress codes officially go out the winda." So I managed the bar in shorts and a tank top and was able to accomplish most of it from the slightly (but not much)cooler sidewalk.
I spent the entire night half expecting the power to be restored at some point. We finally closed up shop for good around 1am as I started to feel that the people left on the street were getting a tad young and a tad boisterous. No sense asking for trouble. It finds you.
The ride home was about the coolest thing ever. When all was said and done it was around 3am and I just needed to escort J--- home to 53rd/Lex cause he was really scerrred to go alone...pussy. I slapped a blinkng red light on my backpack ( now rendered incredibly bright with no lights whatsoever anywhere else) and confidently set off back downtown. If 10 cars passed me that was a lot and occasionally I would pass an open deli with two little men of various ethnicities (but always curiously tiny) huddled in front of a candle selling, (I expected) at ridiculously inflated prices, various things people feel they can't do without during a blackout. There were traffic cops at some intersections that would just wave me through seeing as how often I was the traffic. I think I did the 40 blocks in 10 minutes. After arriving home and doing the penlight climb up the stairs I scoped my place out. It was hot, but not horribly so. We only air condition the bedrooms anyway. I don't like A/C as a rule but in my advancing years I've come to use it for sleeping. The Ex was sacked out on the living room couch (drunk, I guessed. I probably would have been/should be) Candles burning but thankfully not near anything flammable, even accidently. I taught her well. I blew em out and then went about my bedtime washup. Instead of hitting the sack though I gathered some supplies. A lemon scented candle, my radio Walkman and two delighful cocktails. I went back down the five flights and plopped myself on the front stoop (not porch, in NYC it's a stoop). I lit the candle, tuned into Lite FM and quietly sipped my cocktails. It....was....bliss. Pitch dark, nary a soul walking by, it was like the city belonged to me and the possibilities were endless. In fact, the whole scenario reminded me that they are.
Morning.
I rolled over to check the clock and d'oh!..... the clock's not on. No power yet. Not really a surprise as I figured that I would hear the apartment "power up" if it happened. I had the presence of mind to wear my watch to bed It's 9:40. No reason to get up yet and while it's hot, I know it will get stupid hot later so.....*roll* back to sleep for an hour or so. I finally get up aroung 11 a.m. The Ex is up trying to get the 411 from the radio and my good mood from my Zen moment on the front stoop has stayed with me. I boil some water to get some emergency tea (!) in me...the caffeine ya know. And The Ex and I decide to set out into the East Village to see what's what, search for coffee and food. It strikes me funny that we're (relatively) young, white and with cash in our pockets and we're actually going out searching for food. "Will blow you for donuts" We got all the way down to 2nd/2nd checked in on Dennis at Urge and headed back up. Managed to score some lukewarm coffee from a cafe with a generator and bought a big container of Poland Spring just in case.....well....just in case. Came home to a stiflingly hot apartment and proceeded to eat whatever we had. Lunch was hot dogs, baked beans and fettucine alfredo. I swear! We started hearing that different neighborhoods were starting to get power and indeed, the UWS apparently was back as of 6 a.m. (big surprise - not!). So it seemed a bike tour was in order so I could get a read on who had what, where we might score food if needed and also, I needed to head up and check on The Wife. I needed to see where we stood in terms of A/C and ice, not that I could do anything about it really, I was just trying to prepare in advance for when I went in. She doesn't like surprises if they are avoidable. So I set out around 3 p.m. headed directly uptown. I reached the Modern Age (electricity) at 39th st. and pressed on up to 58th to The Wife. Power on. Although I was informed by the opening bartender that it just came on and there came Jabba the Drunk from the opposite direction so....power (check)..... management (check) I'm out. Biked through the park and then popped out at 72nd. Accross to the Hudson River and then back down. Oops! No power in Chelsea but yes in the Village. Back across town and a big "No" to electricity in the East Village and beloved Gramercy. I couldn't wait any longer and took a pretty cold shower (kind of refreshing) and decided to head out to the west Village in search of an ATM (for The Ex) and a decent dinner. It was a mismosh as to who/what was open with the majority of bars opening up figuring, (wisely) that people were off from work they'd want liquor. Some groceries and some restaurants but very few retail stores. We settled on Sushi Samba down on 7th Ave figuring, in my mind at least, that the sushi can't go bad if it's served raw....I know...but it made sense then. we managed to fill up without poisoning ourselves and after finding the only working ATM in lower Manhattan, headed back East. Around Broadway we noticed that the lights were still out east of there. As we got closer the coolest effect was happening. The East Village was now so dark compared to the rest of the neighborhood that it took on a kind of Badlands, dark territory kind of feel. You would be peering into the darkness when a bike tire would appear and then a sneaker and then three people walking towards you. I checked to make sure thay didn't have white afros and white eyes, just as a precaution. Soylent Green is People! It wasn't till we got to 14th st that we realized the north side (our side) was lit. Sucks to be you East Village! Headed home and turned on all the appliances ( fuck you Con Ed) even though we didn't need them. I wisely unplugged my computer during the blackout and fired the old girl back up without incident. (As it turns out, many people and businesses are still having problems a week later because they left their boxes plugged in and got a juice jolt that scrambled their innards. You've been warned.) From that point on life slowly returned to normal. I took a delightfully air conditioned bus ride up to work. The bar was open but not too busy as the subways hadn't come back yet. The weekend was upon us and New York seemed to take a collective shrug and move on.
The most remarkable things I came away with from this experience? How the entire city now seems to easily fall into this crisis mode. It's the second time in 2 years (!) where the city had to basically evacuate and people just do. They leave their buildings and abandon their cars and just slowly, methodically walk to where thay need to go. What other city in the entire world is that adaptable? They just figure out what's required and do it. The other thing is a personal revelation. After the blackout, reading other accounts of where were you when, I was struck by how many people assumed or feared or concluded that this was a terrorist attack. And I never did. Not once. Not even a little. I was, in fact, surprised to read it at first. What I find amazing about that fact is that apparently, living in fear of a terrorist attack has become a part of the makeup of regular people in this country. But not me. Am I just that at peace with the world that I don't default to fear automatically? Or am I just stupid?
