Plunged into the Stone Age
The other night (Tuesday, July 8th, 2014) the bereavement support-group I attend — my wife died over two years ago — held their regular monthly meeting at a combination delicatessen/café in nearby Canandaigua.
It wouldn’t be our usual meeting. We would eat out instead.
What we usually do is sit in a circle in a small conference-room in a hospital cancer-center and tell our latest achievements.
As if anything we do is an achievement, although I guess it is.
It’s hard to think of anything as an achievement when you’re always sad.
I was joined by a girl who worked at the Messenger newspaper when I did, who lost her beloved husband to melanoma a while ago.
She’s not a regular at these meetings, but we surmised it might be nice to talk to others who understand.
Most don’t understand bereavement, what you go through. They also might say something stupid, and are surprised we hadn’t “got over it” in a year-or-so.
While consuming our entrees, a gigantic deluge occurred outside.
We’d look outside, and it would be pouring.
It looked like we’d get soaked retrieving our cars.
But then the rain stopped, and the sky cleared to the west.
I fired up the weather-radar on my SmartPhone and indeed the deluge had passed.
We would be able to retrieve our cars without getting soaked.
When I returned home I noticed the clock on my stove was flashing — indication the electricity had gone off.
The digital clock on my microwave was reading “88:88,” another indication the power had dove.
I went outside for some reason — probably to retrieve my dog.
I could hear my stand-by generator blasting away.
I guess the power was still off.
At least the stand-by was working.
Perhaps two months ago the power failed, and my stand-by wouldn’t crank. Its battery was dead.
I fed the dog, and went to bed, in the dark.
A neighbor and I replaced the battery, a car-battery.
The failed battery was original, at least six years old, maybe 10.
The stand-by doesn’t push everything.
I only push essentials, most of the rooms, plus freezers and furnace, etc. Even my water-heater needs electricity, although it’s gas. —Plus the opener for my massive garage-door.
So here I was in my house with everything pushed by that roaring stand-by generator.
I hoped my electricity would return before bedtime, so I didn’t have to sleep versus that supposedly “whisper-quiet” stand-by below my bedroom window.
Hours passed. Still on the stand-by. I had got home around 7 p.m., and it was approaching 10 p.m.
Anomalies were occurring.
My bedroom had no lights, as intended, but my bathroom had lights.
My DVR and TV were both dead. Both are on a backup-battery that I guess went dead during the outage. They’re on that backup-battery so the DVR doesn’t lose its settings, which it will when my stand-by delays 30 seconds before starting.
What I didn’t expect was the outlets to my TV and DVR were being pushed by the stand-by. My original thought was they weren’t.
No matter, all the DVR settings were lost; so needed to be reset.
I’ve done it before; I unplug everything when I go to Altoona to chase trains.
My porch-lights also didn’t work. I don’t remember cutting them out.
Then I discovered my dishwasher was powerless. Was it on its own circuit, avoided thinking my wife would wash the dishes if the power dove?
Then the whole-house air-conditioning came on at 9:15 like always, to lower my inside temperature from 75 degrees to 72.
I thought we avoided the whole-house air-conditioning when we set up that stand-by.
Air-conditioning, no dishwasher, no porch-lights; strange anomalies.
Then about 9:50 my hard-wired smoke-detectors chirped signaling return to the grid.
I went into my bedroom; it had lights, and the stand-by was off.
I started my dishwasher and went to bed. No “whisper-quiet” stand-by generator.
• The “Messenger newspaper” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger, from where I retired almost nine years ago. Best job I ever had — I worked there almost 10 years (over 11 if you count my time as a post-stroke unpaid intern [I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I recovered fairly well]). (“Canandaigua” [“cannan-DAY-gwuh”] is a small city nearby where I live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” —It’s about 14 miles away.)
It wouldn’t be our usual meeting. We would eat out instead.
What we usually do is sit in a circle in a small conference-room in a hospital cancer-center and tell our latest achievements.
As if anything we do is an achievement, although I guess it is.
It’s hard to think of anything as an achievement when you’re always sad.
I was joined by a girl who worked at the Messenger newspaper when I did, who lost her beloved husband to melanoma a while ago.
She’s not a regular at these meetings, but we surmised it might be nice to talk to others who understand.
Most don’t understand bereavement, what you go through. They also might say something stupid, and are surprised we hadn’t “got over it” in a year-or-so.
While consuming our entrees, a gigantic deluge occurred outside.
We’d look outside, and it would be pouring.
It looked like we’d get soaked retrieving our cars.
But then the rain stopped, and the sky cleared to the west.
I fired up the weather-radar on my SmartPhone and indeed the deluge had passed.
We would be able to retrieve our cars without getting soaked.
When I returned home I noticed the clock on my stove was flashing — indication the electricity had gone off.
The digital clock on my microwave was reading “88:88,” another indication the power had dove.
I went outside for some reason — probably to retrieve my dog.
I could hear my stand-by generator blasting away.
 |
| My stand-by generator. (Photo by Bobbalew.) |
At least the stand-by was working.
Perhaps two months ago the power failed, and my stand-by wouldn’t crank. Its battery was dead.
I fed the dog, and went to bed, in the dark.
A neighbor and I replaced the battery, a car-battery.
The failed battery was original, at least six years old, maybe 10.
The stand-by doesn’t push everything.
I only push essentials, most of the rooms, plus freezers and furnace, etc. Even my water-heater needs electricity, although it’s gas. —Plus the opener for my massive garage-door.
So here I was in my house with everything pushed by that roaring stand-by generator.
I hoped my electricity would return before bedtime, so I didn’t have to sleep versus that supposedly “whisper-quiet” stand-by below my bedroom window.
Hours passed. Still on the stand-by. I had got home around 7 p.m., and it was approaching 10 p.m.
Anomalies were occurring.
My bedroom had no lights, as intended, but my bathroom had lights.
My DVR and TV were both dead. Both are on a backup-battery that I guess went dead during the outage. They’re on that backup-battery so the DVR doesn’t lose its settings, which it will when my stand-by delays 30 seconds before starting.
What I didn’t expect was the outlets to my TV and DVR were being pushed by the stand-by. My original thought was they weren’t.
No matter, all the DVR settings were lost; so needed to be reset.
I’ve done it before; I unplug everything when I go to Altoona to chase trains.
My porch-lights also didn’t work. I don’t remember cutting them out.
Then I discovered my dishwasher was powerless. Was it on its own circuit, avoided thinking my wife would wash the dishes if the power dove?
Then the whole-house air-conditioning came on at 9:15 like always, to lower my inside temperature from 75 degrees to 72.
I thought we avoided the whole-house air-conditioning when we set up that stand-by.
Air-conditioning, no dishwasher, no porch-lights; strange anomalies.
Then about 9:50 my hard-wired smoke-detectors chirped signaling return to the grid.
I went into my bedroom; it had lights, and the stand-by was off.
I started my dishwasher and went to bed. No “whisper-quiet” stand-by generator.
• The “Messenger newspaper” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger, from where I retired almost nine years ago. Best job I ever had — I worked there almost 10 years (over 11 if you count my time as a post-stroke unpaid intern [I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I recovered fairly well]). (“Canandaigua” [“cannan-DAY-gwuh”] is a small city nearby where I live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” —It’s about 14 miles away.)
posted by BobbaLew at 6:58 PM
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