If you have never been to Cincinnati, there is something you need to know about us: We are a bunch of pussies. We fashion ourselves as a hearty bunch of folks, able to take on anything that comes our way. This is not true. For instance, on Sunday afternoon, the remnants of Hurricane Ike met up with a cold front and swept through our fair city. With wind gusts up to 75 mph, power to more than 90% of the area was knocked out. You'd think that a city with a fiercely independent, give-em-hell attitude like ours would withstand it. You'd think that, and you'd be wrong. Because this city freaked the fuck out.
Sadly, I am included in that freak out. Granted, I didn't wait in an hour-long line for gas or buy every remaining loaf of bread at a grocery store, like some people did. But I wasn't happy. I like power. I need power. On Sunday night, my living room was lit up with candles like we were having a seance. My wife, a Louisiana native and veteran of many hurricanes, was gleeful. "Isn't this fun?!?" she said several times. No. It wasn't fun. In fact, it sucked.
The degree to which I am reliant on internet access and cable television is somewhat alarming, based on my reaction when it is taken away from me. I went through severe withdrawal on Sunday night, knowing I could be aimlessly surfing the web and watching a football game. But that was nothing compared to how I felt on Monday morning, when my wife called me at work to tell me the power was back on. "But the cable is still out," she said. My heart sank. Seriously, what good is power if I can't use it to connect me to the outside world from the comfort of my home?
For the next 36 hours, I sulked. I whined. I complained. Coworkers who didn't yet have their electricity restored shot me death looks, but I didn't care. I'd have preferred to not have power at all. It was like a cruel tease, to be able to turn on my lights but not to be able to watch ESPN. I mean, what's the point?
Yesterday afternoon, I hit my low point. (Please note: I am not proud of this.) I get my land line telephone through the cable company too, so if the cable is out, my phone is out. I sat at work and called my home number. Over and over. Each time I would get a recording. Due to network difficulties, your call cannot be completed. I probably called it every five minutes, hoping beyond hope that it would ring. Ringing means cable. But it did not ring.
This morning, after trying to determine if Direct TV could hook up service on really short notice, I picked up my cell phone again, and dialed my house. I dreaded hearing the recording about network difficulties, but I couldn't resist. But this time, it rang. Four times! Then my answering machine picked up! That could only mean one thing! MY CABLE WAS BACK!
It was only 11:15, but I rushed home for lunch. I prepared myself for the worst, that my phone call was just a fluke. But when I saw my cable box lit up, fully functional, I did a full on Tiger Woods style arm pump. I grabbed the phone and called my wife. "Guess what? The cable is back on!!!"
"Oh, good," she said, not nearly as enthusiastic as me, since she didn't even seem to mind the outage.
"This is the happiest day of my life."
"Um, what about when we got married?"
I thought for a second. "No, this is better." She laughed, thinking that I was joking around. But you know what's sad? I'm not sure if I was....
A survivalist, I am not.
