You Can't Do Without It - It's Electric!

Boogie-woogie-woogie-woogie.

Yep. I went there. I quoted the most awful song known to mankind, ever. What would drive an otherwise (marginally) sane person to mention that heinous song, never mind Google the godawful lyrics? Well, only one thing ... a snowstorm. Let me take you on a party ride, indeed.

Just two weeks ago (!), we were walloped by a nor'easter to the tune of more than fourteen inches of heavy, wet snow. Oddly enough, spots just a few miles away got an inch or two. But not me. Nosiree. The snow fell fast and hard, and as the afternoon progressed, power began to fail all over the area. We held out until about four or so, then the juice stopped flowing at my Dad's house. I wasn't sure if this was caused by downed wires or the old car-vs.-pole thing, but the only sensible course of action was to proceed directly to the local bar. So we did. Since the bar is just a few blocks away, I figured it was pretty likely that the place would also be sans power, and I was right.

What I didn't expect, however, was how different the usual watering hole would be without electricity. No televisions. No jukebox. Not even the ambient noise of the heating system or the ice machine. Just quite a few patrons, chatting amiably by the light of a few candles and the waning daylight that shone through the windows. It was positively surreal. Fun, but surreal.

I was reminded of this yesterday, when a friend posted about having had no power - for days! - on a messageboard that I frequent. She hadn't posted for a while, and just as we were about to send out a search party, she resurfaced with harrowing tales of a multi-day power loss. Now there's a gal who could handle life of the prairie. I was pissing and moaning after a few hours, especially once the novelty (not to mention my buzz) wore off.

I keep thinking of The Long Winter. If you've never read it, give it a shot, even if you're not a Little House kind of person. It's an interesting read. I liked it as a kid, but when I checked it out again as an adult, I was blown away by how long and awful that winter really was, and how close the people in DeSmet came to outright starvation. Because no trains could make it through, there was nothing to burn for heat except twisted chunks of hay. And nothing to eat but ground-up seed wheat made into brown bread. For months. Months! Jeez, I was upset that I couldn't microwave some popcorn that snowy afternoon. Makes ya' think.

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Days until trip: 72

Money saved: $425.00