Feelin' groovy



Well, what can I say? I was in the office when the blackout hit; I made my way down ten flights of stairs, milled around outside until I got some idea of what was going on, and walked home. I live about nine miles from the office, so it was no big deal; a few of the people I met on the road had to walk all the way to Nassau County.



My first thought, like everyone else's, was that it was a terrorist attack; I never thought I'd be relieved to hear that the East Coast had been fried by an ordinary power plant failure, but I was. Once it became clear that terrorism wasn't involved, I actually began enjoying the trip, and I was far from the only one. I resisted the temptation to start belting out Simon and Garfunkel while crossing the 59th Street bridge, but the mood was more a party than a disaster area. Kids outside apartment buildings in Queens handed out water for free; people joked with strangers met on the road and cheered the pickup trucks that passed by full of passengers. It was New York all over; we piss and moan about ordinary things, but when it hits the fan, we show the world how it's done.



As I write this, the lights have been on in my neighborhood for about half an hour, and a spot check of friends around the city indicates that most of them are also back up. I suspect that the last of the blackout won't end for another day or two, but the worst is over. Should be fun to watch the finger-pointing.



UPDATE: According to Mapquest, my commute is exactly 10 miles. Evidently, the Queens Boulevard stretch was longer than I thought.