Why I Like Power Outages

OK so I know power outages are causing trouble and headache for folks across the country.   They cause food to spoil.  [Hint:  Call your homeowner's insurance company and they'll probably cut you a check for that.]  The damage that caused the power outage also likely caused damage and destruction and sometimes death from injury, extreme heat, extreme cold or failure of medical equipment.  Yikes.  I almost don't want to go forward with this post.

But forward I will go into that dark night.

We've had power outages for days on end, both in the winter and summer months. All times, I've pretty much enjoyed it.  Yes, I've had people call me crazy, poke fun at me, mock me, torment me [ok not that last one] but I stand by my emotions.  I {mostly) like it when the power goes out and here's why.

1)  It's quiet.  Real quiet.  Not 'real' as in 'very but 'real' as in 'genuine.'  Genuinely quiet.  The kind of quiet that these days in America, you have to go into a cave to hear.  It's a little unnerving at first.  Where is that hum of electricity?  But then.... it's calming.  You hear birds and animals outside.  This is what the world really sounds like.  It reminds me - this is nature's world and we're just living in it.

2) It's dark.  Real dark (real = genuine, again).  I now know what my house looks like at night without its makeup on.  I am reminded of what people mean by 'light pollution.'  I don't have the neighbor's spotlight shining in our window.  It's soothing.

3) It's hot.  I don't mind being very hot as long as I can stay hydrated.  You get used to it.  People all over the world have to be very hot their whole lives. It reminds me that this is how the world really feels.

4) No TV.  No Internet.  Smartphones until they die.  Again, back to basics.  To *real* reality, without the luxurious modern conveniences that we 'love' but leave us wondering - do I need it?  Am I controlling it or is it controlling me?  When you can't turn it on, the answers to those questions become more clear.  We read more.  We talk to our neighbors more.  We tell more stories and don't rely on power to help us connect.

5) I feel spoiled.  Is this a good thing?  Yes.  I believe it's good to be reminded of those things in life that we take for granted that many in the world do not have that could benefit them.  I appreciated my access to refrigeration, and air that keeps me at a comfortable temperature, and devices that keep me engaged and informed of the world.  When they turn back on, I think - I'll try to appreciate them more.

6) I feel sad.  I think about my friends in Togo where I lived 10 years ago.  In so many ways, electricity would benefit them.  Keeping vaccines and medicines at the right temperature.  Light to help children read and study by at night.  Electricity for devices that would connect them to the world so they would know their dictator was not god.  I'm happy to be reminded of Togo even if it springs from sadness.

That's why I like it.  Call me crazy!

Our Quirky Neighbors, Part I

First off, I will totally own that our neighbors might possibly think that we, too, are crazy quirky.  That's ok.  And I am using the word 'crazy' 'quirky' here in the most endearing way possible.  Kind of.


Hubby and I are like magnets for  crazy quirky  neighbors.  I'm convinced of it.  It as if, when we tied the knot that fateful day, the heavens opened up and said "thou shalt be blessed with beautiful children and  crazy quirky  neighbors.  Amen."  Thank you, oh Lord, for both.


It started in our bass-ackwards first neighborhood in the OKC.  Our landlord had put lipstick on a pig, a pig in which we had to hang plastic to keep warm in the winter and roach-bomb multiple times.  We lived across the street from an apartment building spray-painted in shiny black paint.  Attractive.


A young ex-con kid would perch up in the window like a gargoyle, and told me one day he routinely watched me walk the dogs, and that he had served time for check forgery.  Another neighbor would spend ours dancing in the median with a paper bag of alcohol in hand.


One time, Hubby was walking the dogs at night (we had no back yard).  He was approached by a cop car (which would routinely canvas the neighborhood - I wonder why.)
Cop to hubby:  "Do you live around here?"
Hubby:  "Yes."
Cop:  "You need to get bigger dogs."


We moved out before our contract was up.


Our beloved house in OKC was in an urban preservation area, attractive and well kept.  There, we had some truly great neighbors.  They looked out for us and were kind and friendly.


But with every yin comes yang.


There was our next-door neighbor who was dating a stripper who was selling drugs out of his house by day, and coming home at 3 AM followed by other angry men yelling about her being pregnant.  One the other side, a reclusive university professor who wouldn't answer her door when we rang.


Catty-corner from us, an elderly man owned the house but used it as storage for strange things and it was rumored that parts of the house didn't have a floor.  Occasionally he would let his blonde-hair-slightly-coked-out-looking "sister" live there, who would come pilfer water from the spicket on our house because their water had been turned off.


Then there were the 'hippies' as we called them, basically squatting in the house on the end of the street which had been abandoned and I can confirm that most of it didn't have a floor.  They road their bicycles everywhere and were probably growing pot.


The stories could go on and on...  and will, in Part II because the saga continued in Richmond!!