Came home to a black out yesterday. Our whole block, the power was off and PECO dudes were at the intersection of 20th & Green, working on the problem until around midnight when the power came back on.
Out my window I heard some dude yell, "All right!" when it came back on and I imagined he was probably really stoked to check his email. I was just happy that the light in the fridge came back on.
So after going up the Newlyweds and out to dinner at the Moose, I stopped by the warehouse and grabbed a headlamp and some batteries. But just like in sunny San Diego, I put the batteries in upside down and also like in San Diego, I assumed the headlamp, like a lot of stuff in our warehouse, didn't really work. Going into a black out without a headlamp was piss poor and I felt I should be more prepared, so I looked back at the headlamp that was now sitting on the work bench and then at the sets of worklights over by the sink. The work lights needed to be plugged in- I just thought about that now- so I elected to give the headlamp another try. I thought back to San Diego, we were in the middle of breakdown and it was starting to get dark. I had a headlamp, a brand new one I think, and could use it, but it wasn't working. I turned to Ross, a world-traveling hippie wanderer and said, "Ross, you seem like the kind of person who would know how to make one of these things work."
"I look like I'd know how a headlamp would work?" He said.
"Yeah man. Totally."
The problem then was the same problem I had now and it was just about turning the batteries around and when I did, all set & problem solved. So back up Dark Green st, a half hour to find parking, and then home safe & sound in the darkness.
Walking around your pitch black house aided only by a headlamp is a weird feeling and a lonely one. An ipod had never made me as happy as mine did when I turned it on and saw it had some juice left. So I laid down, listening to Al Green, and reading about the Patriot League, realizing that power or no power, life was moving on and this night, despite the astonishing amount of bleakness, was not unlike any other night. But just when I was starting to think that maybe I didn't need electricity as much as I thought I did, the power came back on, the dude outside was happy, and a good part of me was relieved because the fridge light came back on.
Now my only concern was if the milk was sour.
Broken headlamps, busted power lines, and balmy milk.
G'nite Philly and g'nite little problems. I'll see you both in the morning.