July 27, 2021

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In the old days, when shoulders didn’t creak and pop and hair laid thick on my head, a million-man army that I would have never suspected would one day march off to lands unknown never to return, the power seemed to go off with much more regularity. Back then, power grid engineers designed a fragile spider-web of strung-up lines hidden among brittle branches high amidst the world of chewing rodents, almost guaranteeing several outages per week that would send our children squealing with joy as they investigated how to do near-frontier-life-like things like making toast on the gas stove or filling the toilet tanks with buckets of lake water. After a long night of wind, rain, and booming rolling thunder, under only the light of the fading moon, those memories linger in the quiet of this electricless morning, smelling and feeling as sweet and fresh as they were-all those many years ago.