Power Play – or – In the Dark


I stepped onto the street this morning to a cumulonimbus of thick black filth that covered my neighborhood. No sirens or emergency vehicles, which was odd. Actually i had just missed the blast.

Late for work, I made my way to the 2nd Avenue F train. I spent 5 minutes on the crowded platform until a voice over the usually inarticulate P.A. calmly directed all customers to proceed immediately to street level. There were those that, never having heard such a thing before, stood puzzled and waited to see if the train would really come anyway. Caring not to fully experience what Osama might have had in store for our fair subway stop, I got outta there in a flash. On my way up and out, I caught the eye of the station manager, eternally sealed up in his little hut of tokens, bad directions and short temper. He just shrugged and adjusted his gaze back to outer space.

By the time I hit the streets, the buzz was that the Con Ed power plant in my neighborhood had exploded, and I figured the nearest subway line had lost power. I walked to the West Village where the stairs to the A train were roped off, as were those to the 1/9 yet several blocks west of there. In Greenwich Village all power was obviously out, shops darkened and closing up. Now the sirens began to wail and fire engines raced cross town. I was now late for work, but all cabs were full. Traffic lights out, cops -- especially those of the traffic variety -- were conspicuously absent. Chaos on the streets ensued.

Finally I caught an uptown 6th Avenue bus, but it was crowded and slow. At each stop massees pushed to get on the bus. At especially crowed stops people pryed open the back doors to squeeze aboard, some with little kids. I felt I was suddenly in a third world country populated by savages. All that was missing on this bus was livestock, firearms and open flame. It took about an hour of (mostly) stop and (little) go, elbows in my side and armpits in my face ‘til we got to Rockefeller Center. That was close enough for me. I walked the 7 blocks to work from there.



Over an hour late, the house should have opened by then, I was still able to do my sound check. A couple actors arrived just 5 minutes prior to curtain. The audience was sparse, but the show went up on time as usual: the music began, we went to a nice little blackout, the stage lights came up bright, and the show went on.

I checked my home phone several times, and each time my electronically reproduced voice told me I’m unable to take my call; just how it should be, a good sign. I have power, but oddly enough points west and south (the opposite direction of the power plant) are out and will likely be dark ‘til Monday. Subways are still out according to the MTA website. I may walk through the Village, which will be exciting considering there will be no lights there whatsoever. Wonder how this will hold up to looting, etc. I’ll have a couple coworkers who live in that ‘hood crash at my place tonight.

As I stand at the mixing console, running the show, I think about the walk home tonight; maybe I’ll hit an Irish pub or two on the way to make it more worthwhile. Kayaking in the morning. Might buy a cheap bike and ditch the trains altogether for the summer.

It's not 1977, the Summer of Sam, but there's nothing like a good blackout to shake your faith in humanity and keep you on your toes.


© christopher peifer