Power Envy

The day a first hand acquaintance has electrical power restored after the hurricane is the day your baser self comes out.

This is not the day you just know someone who knows someone who has gotten power back, but the day when a friend calls you to say "My power is back on." They will follow it with something well-meaning like, "so come on over if you need to sleep in the cool or wash your clothes or need some water or ice."

Bah! You hate them. What did they do to deserve power? There's no big picture for you after that phone call.

There's no realization that hundreds are homeless. That some lost loved ones. That some are still flooded. That some do not have enough money to buy food unless they can get back to work. That some return home to sift through the rubble that was their home hoping to find a few photos of the family. That the inhabitants of Galveston Island cannot even return to see what is left of their homes. That downtown is open again and people are returning to work, a feat that took thousands to accomplish. That hundreds of cities are sending their power and debris crews to help us. That foreign countries have sent relief. That the entire infrastructure is doing its level best to bring order to the disorder.

None of that matters. All you feel is envy. Pure, selfish envy.

How dependent have we become on our conveniences? I'm only one generation from the kerosene lantern, clotheslines, butter churns and outdoor plumbing. I grew up with minimal power, no tv, no telephone, not even a power lawnmower. Power was owning a tractor instead of a mule team. We hand cranked ice cream on Sundays. I wrote letters to communicate with my friends. And yet, two days without the internet and I am starving for information. Bothered by the quiet. Irritated with the slowness of the days. Craving stimulation. How far have I come? Is this progress?

I think it's time to take a gratefulness break. Perhaps a more appropriate emotion would be survivor guilt. In its brief lifespan of only 13 days, Hurricane Ike wreaked great deal of havoc. Affecting several countries including Cuba, Haiti, and the United States, Ike is blamed for approximately 114 deaths (74 in Haiti alone), and damages that are still being tallied, with estimates topping $10 billion. Many shoreline communities of Texas were wiped from the map by the winds, storm surge and the walls of debris pushed along by Ike.

So, get a grip, self. It's just electricity.

(thanks again to National Geographic for the photo)