I have been really very busy, both at work, where trying to ignore my officemate takes up all of my time, and at home, where I do my work and brainstorm wedding themes with the future Mrs. Droid (apparently death panel liberal big government socio-facist won't be appropriate, so we are going with the Smurfs).
Also there was an earthquake and a hurricane and I took those as clear and incontrovertible evidence that I should stop writing my log on the web, but now various Republican Presidential candidates have confirmed that natural disasters are caused only by God's disapproval of events in Washington DC. I'm so glad that these fine men and women aren't letting centuries of evidence based learning stand in the way of furthering their personal agendas. Clearly they have all missed their calling and should be Democrats or climate change scientists.
Anyway the hurricane that was actually a tropical storm caused some local flooding here and knocked out power. We were warned beforehand to prepare, because power and water might be unavailable for a few days. Yet it was somehow still a surprise to people when their power went off and didn't come back on for several days.
Frantic Caps Lock mothers used the last of the charge on their smartphones to scream into the void (the comment section on news webpages); they simply couldn't go another day without power because they had to run sterilisation equipment for their infants. Initially I thought such right thinking socially inclined people should indeed have the restoration of their electricity prioritised, but then I realised they meant bottle sterilisers for milk. Perhaps they should have used their smartphones to look up alternative childcare methods instead, such as those practised by millions across the world who don't have access to electricity at home? In fact I suspected bottle sterilisers weren't common when I was born. I asked my mother what she used to do: "Oh, I sometimes used to sterilise your bottles with bleach."
Explains a lot really.
Now I appreciate a hot shower and so I really appreciated it when my power came back on after just 24 hours. But there were those less fortunate than me for whom the situation soon turned dire. Perhaps they needed to sterilise children or watch Jersey Shore reruns on TV. Instead they were forced to actually talk to their family members and go to bed when it got dark; a terrible and depressing prospect I'm sure you'll agree (especially if your family members haven't showered). And as livid avians ate into the battery life of their phones, soon even the temporary respite of leaving empty threats and pointless pleas on the power companies facebook page was denied them.
Take a moment from your electricity blessed day - checking penis enlargement email, warming the toilet seat in the microwave, cooking marshmallows on a wire coat hanger jammed in the wall socket - to immerse yourself in their pain: The power has been out for twelve hours and society as we know it is breaking down. Mother is slumped against the wall sobbing, fruitlessly flicking the light switch up and down. Junior sits on the couch wailing and repeatedly slamming the remote into his head. Your daughter lies on the carpet, bleeding to death after she tried to dock her ipod with the cat. Mournfully their eyes turn to you, and in your hands the last working electronic device. The look in their eyes turns to something like hunger and you back away, suddenly afraid. Stumbling into the hall you leave the front door open and run out into the street in your filthy vest and shorts. In your desperation you fumble the car keys and lose precious seconds as the snarling beasts that were once your family approach. Desperately you fling yourself into the SUV and floor the accelerator, sending a hissing Junior flying through the hedge and into the neighbour's fatally unheated outdoor pool. At every intersection the lights are out, but you don't even slow down. Glancing at your lifeline on the passenger seat, you wonder just how much longer you have yourself before you turn. No risk is too great now, you are racing to Starbucks before the ipad flatlines. With just seconds left you pull into the parking lot and jumping from the still moving car you sprint to the entrance, the nearly dead ipad and its charger clutched against your chest. But this is when the real tragedy occurs, and you can no longer hold back the tears. Starbucks is closed. It lost power in the hurricane.
