Without minimizing the aggravations and discomforts of the emergency, the Christmas Eve/Christmas Day power loss did provide some unexpected family benefits for a few hours.
No computers. No telephone. No television. Spotty cell-phone service. A forced, momentary disconnect from daily routine that often passes for mindless addiction to powered gadgets.
Losing power is an undisguised reminder of modern society's utter dependence on electricity. Slavish attachment might be a better description. Without power, motors we rely on fall silent throughout a community—from household appliances to service station fuel pumps, traffic signals and food markets.
Outages also remind us of the vulnerability of a mechanized society and its relative helplessness to conduct business-as-usual when the juice is turned off.
That said, for those 15 hours, we turned to restful candlelight and flashlights. By daylight, my spouse took command and had all of us pitching in to cook breakfast and brew coffee unconventionally on the outside propane gas grille in 4-degrees-above-zero temperature. Alas, when the fuel was exhausted, it was back to the convenience of a car to find a refill.
Meanwhile, undistracted by computers and TV, we engaged in lively conversation—first about the challenge of making do when required and reminding ourselves of far more arduous demands on families in pre-electricity generations, then long and nostalgic reflections and recollections of our family on the move, literally from Florida to Arizona to Idaho, and little girls maturing to successful grown women in their 50s.
This pause in the human rat race is not unusual for some who, for example, have the presence of mind to take a break and venture out from the comfort of home into the wilds on camping trips. However, others need to be suddenly deprived of their conveniences and gadgets that often seem like life support.
It also struck us more than once during that cold night and later in the frigid morning that repair crews were out somewhere in that excruciating weather, looking for the cause of the outage and making repairs, without time to complain.
Finally, a quirky moment on Christmas night illustrating the ironic. A guest for Christmas dinner found himself locked out of his car with keys inside after a dog in the car accidentally sat on a door lock lever.
A Ketchum police officer soon arrived to restore the use of a large, modern, disabled SUV—the product of U.S. industrial genius—with a crude, metal bar slipped through a cracked window to open a door locked accidentally by a dog.
