The Great Ice Storm of 1998

When the guy on the battery-powered radio said the army needed volunteers to go house to house and check in on shut-ins and the elderly, my buddies and I were out the door in less than ten minutes. When we got to the high school, the gymnasium was already half full. Ten minutes later, it was full. The commanding officer had one of his men go outside and turn everyone else away. Tears streamed down his face as he divvied up the assignments.

During the prolonged power outage caused by The Great Ice Storm of 1998, we huddled together by candle light with our friends and family, playing Scrabble, Asshole, and Hearts. Though he’s normally an obnoxious loudmouth who refuses to let anyone else get a word in edgewise, Mr. T.V. was deliciously silent during the Ice Storm. Same is true of F.M. & A.M. & P.C.

Sailors who succumb to the sweet soporific song sung by the sexy Siren sisters rarely live to tell the tale. And yet here we all were: wide awake, asleep no longer, strangely sober for a spell. Looking back at the foreign country of our pre-Ice Storm lives, we all wondered, sometimes aloud: What were we thinking? My God! What the fuck were we thinking? When did we decide that sleepwalking through life, at breakneck speed, was better than this: this warmly-lit world filled with friendly faces and quiet spaces?

If I ever wake up, I’ll tell you.