Blackouts Are In

Oh. My. Lord.

Serengetti heat. Hotter-than-spaghetti heat. The starchies are soaking through their blues and grays today, my friends. I feel all smug in my shorts and sandals. I’m playing their game, but by my own rules.

I’m awaiting the inevitable NYC blackout. If it’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen in the next day or so.

The last blackout experience, actually, the only blackout experience I had was a few years back, when the entire Northeast grid went down. Everything north of Ohio and into Canada went down.

I was in the worst possible place: a subway car heading downtown—between stations. I was on my way to present some advertising ideas to American Express.

The Account Executive and I were on an express train that was moving along at a pretty good clip. Then it sputtered, the lights cut out, and the entire train came to an abrubt stop—as if someone pulled the emergency cord.

The emergency lighting popped on, which gave us enough light to see faces and shapes. We were sitting in a literal black hole. Any light soaked into the tunnel’s colorless walls.

It took no more than 6 seconds for New Yorkers to start cracking jokes. A big, sassy woman started shouting “Bin Loud-in’s comin’ and I got my water jug, my batteries and my butcher knife. I’m ready for his sandy ass.”

That earned applause.

An announcement came on about a “city-wide blackout” and we were going to evacuate the train. “Everyone move to the front car.” A line quickly formed.

Another voice from the shadows, “I’m a tourist, shouldn’t I go the front?”

“Not here, pal. Tourists go to the back.” A classic NYC line. More applause.

The MTA was surprisingly efficient. We stepped off the train and got to do something none of NYC’s 8 million residents get to do: Walk the tunnel.

More about that tomorrow. Until then, stay cool.

GM