Blackout sheds light on our garage-sale culture
The evening's thunder storm pulls the rug out from under the neighborhood, switching off the electricity and scattering huge tree limbs across the roads. Early the next morning, I wake from a shallow sleep, one that has been punctured by the constant rattle of a neighbor's generator and worries about the food warming downstairs in the freezer. Tuna steaks. Ice cream. Previously frozen pizzas. At 6:30 a.m., I click on the lamp beside my bed. The power is still out.
The evening's thunder storm pulls the rug out from under the neighborhood, switching off the electricity and scattering huge tree limbs across the roads. Early the next morning, I wake from a shallow sleep, one that has been punctured by the constant rattle of a neighbor's generator and worries about the food warming downstairs in the freezer. Tuna steaks. Ice cream. Previously frozen pizzas. At 6:30 a.m., I click on the lamp beside my bed. The power is still out.
