Suspended Animation

Ever think about the fragility of our modern life? How all our computers, lighting, refrigeration, and 21st century gadgets rely on the 19th century technology of electricity? Every once in while, just when you’re about to forget that, the power goes off.

I had come inside from outdoor chores to cool off in the a/c a bit. I was laughing heartily over an article about Internet dating on Salon when the studio display blacked out. At first I though maybe a fuse had blown. After all, it is an old house, and I was running the computer (with new DSL hook-up, woo-hoo!), the stereo system, the air conditioner in the bedroom, the fan in the kitchen, and the dryer in the basement all at the same time. All I would need to do would be to plug the toaster oven in, and the house would probably have a melt down.

I flipped a few light switches on different circuits to make sure. The VCR wasn’t blinking and the ‘fridge wasn’t humming. I took the jeans and t-shirt off my magnetic David and put his tighty-whities on. Things heat up quickly in my upstairs apartment.

During the outage, I did all the stupid things I usually do when there’s no power. I tried to play a CD. I flipped the switch in the bathroom and was puzzled for a moment that no light came on. I so take for granted that the juice is flowing that when it’s not, I’m a little baffled. And I don’t consider myself to be too-terribly addicted to my techno-devices. Half the laundry was drying on the line. I passed several hours in the morning reading on the porch in the sunshine, sans electricity, and didn’t miss it.

I considered driving to Meijer or someplace cool, but decided against it. The cat came to see what I was putting in her dish, turned up her nose at the ice cube, and crept under the couch. I busied myself with cleaning some jewelry, a rather tedious task I had been procrastinating on. A man who lives in the gray apartment building across the street came out and looked up and down the empty street, then turned around and went back inside. The elderly lady who lives on the corner was whisked away in a blue mini-van, hopefully to air-conditioned comfort.

By the time I got my copper necklace restored and two of my four defunct watches ticking away again, the refrigerator had rumbled back to life (and none too soon as at the hour-and-a-half mark I began to have concerns for my fresh chicken). Of course I had to check my e-mail right away. The a/c is cranking on “Max Cool” and making quite a racket. I can’t believe it’s nearly seven o’clock already. Absorbed in a mundane task, enfolded in warmth and silence, I found a bit of flow, a caesura in the data stream. I feel like I’ve been meditating. Although I’m right back in the fray, multitasking already, there’s a core of calm that wasn’t there before. Maybe I’ll turn everything off more often.