Humbled

OK, I may have shaken my fists at the sky a la Lieutenant Dan, cursing the storm clouds and, perhaps, He Who may have been blowing them, and that may have not been the wisest of things to do.  But I only did it based on past experience.  And isn’t past experience an indicator of future performance?  (That was facetiouos.)

So here I am, day three at my parents house in Pennsylvania.  They have power.  They have electricity.  They have internet and phones.  They have heat.  They have refrigerated food. 

Back at my house, we don’t.

We lost power at 6:25 last Monday, just as Hurricane Sandy was coming ashore at the New Jersey shore.  We were prepared, mind you.  We lit candles.  Had a half-dozen flashlights at the ready.  Battery-powered radio.  The wind was mighty fierce, so we had the children camp out in sleeping bags in the first floor living room, instead of their tree-menaced second-floor bedrooms.  I read some of Dante’s Inferno in bed while the wife read a book on Lincoln.  By 10 we were asleep amidst the groanings of the wind-tossed house.

The next few days were of me tentavely striking out to work.  For me, no clock in, no pay.  Our trip to France erased all my PTO, so I had to clock in.  I worked 2.5, 5, and 6.5 hours each of the next three workdays.  Conditions at my place of business were less than optimal.  A sputtering generator kept the lights on but the computers down.  No fresh water, no refrigerated drinks.  They brought klieg lights into the office where my desk was, increasing the ambient temperature as the days wore on.  A slight odor of stinkiness as people were coming to work without showering due to circumstances.

One of my duties is payroll, and Friday was the pay date.  I needed Internet, and the phone companies were telling us we’d be lucky to have internet capability early next week.  My wife packed up the children – who had no school due to power outages – and drove them up to my parents in PA.  They had power.

And internet.  I made the decision to telecommute on Friday to get payroll in.  My bosses concurred.  Gas shortages were just beginning and many were worried they wouldn’t even make it to work.  Gassing up before the storm, I had 3/8s of a tank left.  I remembered a can of gas used for the lawnmower in my garage.  I threw that in the tank.  I drove up to Pennsylvania Thursday night, alarmed at the lines for gas stations even over the border.  Finally, though, nearing my parents rustic home, I found a gas station open with no lines whatsoever.  I filled the tank plus that spare, 2-gallon can I brought with me.

Ah!  Warmth!  For the first time in four or five days I got an uninterrupted, pleasant night’s sleep.

Friday the wife and my mother took the children to the movies in town.  I did the telecommuting thing on my mom’s laptop and got 165 employees paid … albeit late, a Tuesday paycheck at the behest of my general manager.  Took a hot bath afterwards and finished reading Inferno.

Yesterday I took the girls to the local playground off the local lake, but an icy 39-degree wind swept us soon back inside.  The wife paid some due credit card bills over the phone.  Then the wife and I motored in to town for a beer and burger and some window-shopping.  Today we’re off to church and then to watch the football games.  Still undecided as to when we’re heading back home.  Power is still out, but I have to be at work tomorrow.  No clock in, no pay and all.

Strange to be in a house unaffected by all the strife in the tri-state area.  That’s all we see on the news: the long lines, the foot shortages, the persisting power outtages. 

It’s scary.