Quick Sand

Hello World, "Better luck the next time, Sandy, gotta tell you that we're through." Of course, the dinosaurs and I can remember those lyrics from an old song by Dion & the Belmonts, but they've taken on a new significance now, after the apocalyptic events of this week, not just in the local area, but all up and down the east coast, and islands way out at sea besides. Yes, Hurricane Sandy was more than just an unwelcome interloper in our midst, cutting a wide swath of devastation across thousands of miles, and wreaking havoc on everything in her path. (The dinosaurs and I can also remember TV's Sandy Becker and baseball's Sandy Alomar, so it's certainly true that Sandy can be a man's name as well, but we can tell by the National Hurricane Center's 2012 list of hurricane names that this Sandy is female, because the names alternate on the list by gender - and where one is questionable, like Chris or Leslie or Sandy, you only need to check the names on either side of it to see if it's male or female.) Sandy roared into New York on Monday, and while the full force of the storm didn't hit until later at night, they started sending non-clinical staff home from the hospital as early as 10:15 in the morning, and I can never remember that happening before in all the years I've worked there. Bill stayed at work all day, but by the time he got home, it was beginning to get really ugly out there, and it was just about 6:00 PM when the electricity went out for good. Now, I take no responsibility for hurricanes in general, and this one in particular, but I will admit that it was entirely our fault that millions of people lost their electricity - for the simple reason that we made the mistake of buying a new television set last week. Since the last TV set that we bought was almost 30 years ago, it's a wonder that this electronic anomaly didn't just blast the whole planet right into a bizarre parallel universe where electricity didn't even exist in the first place. On the other hand, you would think that all of those millions of other people racing out to buy generators would have counteracted our misguided purchase of a new TV set, but no such luck. And to one and all, far and wide, all I can say is you have my sincerest apologies. Our neighborhood of old trees survived the onslaught better than it might have, except for a very large limb of our sycamore, which fell onto the butler's pantry on the side of our house, and the other half landed in the Dumpster of the house next door, where the neighbors had previously skedaddled out of here in the dead of night. It was after midnight that the time-worn storm doors outside of the French doors shattered, when I couldn't save them in time after I heard them banging - somehow the ferocious wind rattled them to the point that it extricated the door frames from the cord and bracket keeping them closed, while still leaving everything intact, until they flew open and slammed against the stucco on the side of the house, sending shards of glass flying wildly in every direction. The reason that I couldn't run outside to save them was that at the same time, the other French doors in the back of the living room were about to blow right in, despite various locks and braces to prevent this very thing, and I managed to catch them just in time, thereby successfully keeping our cats safely inside, and the miscellaneous wildlife critters outside where they belong. Previously these doors were inside the enclosed porch we used to have, before the great porch renovation project, and had never really been battle-tested in extreme outside weather up to this point. Considering that the wind picked up a heavy 6-foot wood step-ladder and blew it right off the porch. it's obvious that the French doors were no match for the storm's fury. The wind howled all night until the wee hours, along with scattered lightning, although there was no rain to speak of throughout it all. During the worst of it, the same refrain kept running through my head, "There's got to be a morning after," the theme song from The Poseidon Adventure, another example of nature run amok, and admittedly small comfort except perhaps clutching at straws. The pundits and prognosticators really weren't kidding when they dubbed this monstrosity bearing down on us the aptly named "FrankenStorm." We awoke on Tuesday to find that we still had no power at home, and Bill discovered that there was also no power where he works, so they were shut down for the duration as a result. I was glad to get to the hospital, where at least there was plenty of heat, electricity, and computers, even in our old rattle-trap of a building and the other out-buildings around the campus. After a while, I did realize that my office was noticeably colder than the other offices around me, and it took very little sleuthing on my part to uncover the culprit - which was that the high winds overnight had blown out a small plastic window panel next to the air conditioner above the back window in the room, that was allowing way too much of the great outdoors into the not-so-great indoors at the time, believe me. I scurried over to the Facilities Management department to file a work order for it, and in jig time, the crack Engineering team flew right over to replace it with brand new plastic and lots of sturdy caulk to hold it in place. They even replaced the burnt-out ceiling lights while they were at it, as an unexpected added bonus. Since it turned out that I would be going home to a house that was still cold and dark, it was nice to be toasty warm and brightly lit at least while I was at work. Meanwhile, in the "Timing is Everything" category, unfortunately Halloween fell on Wednesday during this calamitous period, when there was certainly nothing worth celebrating, and nobody in the mood for it besides. I figured this was as good a time as any to break out my emergency backup costume, since it had turned out to be not much of a holiday under the circumstances, and I thought that people needed to see a big bright jolly pumpkin with a great big smile to cheer them up. This worked better than I could have expected - in fact, people loved it and fell all over me everywhere I went - and I can tell you that I have never heard so many "adorables" and "cutes" in my whole life, by golly. I think people were really starved for something happy and sweet (most especially those beleaguered folks trying to subsist with no power, no phones, or no hot water) and it seemed that they could really relate to this sunny smiling pumpkin in their midst. (Although it must be said, like even the most iconic costumes, that there were still people who introduced me as an M&M or Reese's Pieces, rather than the junior version of The Great Pumpkin, which should have been obvious to anyone.) I could not have been more popular everywhere I went, and everyone wanted to take my picture, so they were not just saying that they liked my costume to be polite. Being small and round as I am, it's not much of a stretch to dress up as a small and round pumpkin, and I think what people appreciated about it most was that in their own minds, it suited me to a T, and cute was the word of the day. But more importantly, it's really true that people were so overwhelmed by the hurricane and its aftermath, that most of them didn't even realize that Wednesday was Halloween in the first place, and I saw it over and over again in hallways and stairways all around the campus - I was watching the blankest looks on the faces coming toward me, with only the faintest recognition at the last minute that I was dressed up in a costume for the holiday. In light of the situation, the one thing I really didn't want was a "high-concept" costume that I had to explain to everybody, when no one was in the frame of mind for it - and so I felt that something simple, cheerful and obvious was the only way to go. I noticed when I made my rounds that many people were still off because of hurricane-related problems, and whole departments were deserted, where I would normally pay them a call. The Adult Day Care program was closed as a safety precaution, so there was no party there, which is always a highlight of my day. The poor staff had already put up decorations and had their costumes, so you can imagine they were pretty unhappy at this turn of events. At least the nursing home party was still on, and we all scooted over there, to find them having their usual rollicking time of it, with costumes, party hats, seasonal decorations and snacks galore. When I made my entrance into the day room, the DJ started singing "The Night They Invented Champagne" from Gigi, only substituting the word "pumpkin" for "champagne," which didn't actually make any sense, but everyone was having too much fun to notice. Everywhere else I went, I was the only fun they were having, and I was glad for a chance to spread a little sunshine in an otherwise dismal week. I even got some candy, which I have long since learned not to expect, although there was the usual attrition along the way in the time-honored "reverse trick-or-treat" tradition we've come to expect at the employer of last resort. The way things were going, I figured that they needed the candy more than I did anyway. All too soon, it was time to hurry home and take pictures - outside this time, because it was way too dark to take any inside. After a quick meal, all we could do then was sit around in the dark waiting to see if any callers would brave the elements (I know I would when I was that age) so I could give away any of 100 goodie bags I had already assembled beforehand. I figured we would hear voices and see flashlights out in the street, so we could then let them know we were open for business as usual, even though things were very far from the usual in our neighborhood. It turned out there was not a single solitary soul all night, even all the way up to 10:00 PM, on our street and the streets around us, there was not a sound anywhere to be heard in any direction. This was certainly a first for us - over the years we've had rain, freezing temperatures, the 9/11 attacks, and in spite of it all, we still had callers come to our door for candy, even if in smaller numbers, but this is the first time ever that we hit absolute zero, and how sad is that. Bill was home during the day, and said there was nobody all day either, even when it was still light out, which I found even more depressing on top of everything else. In the end, I was really glad that I had my emergency bright cheery pumpkin costume to do its part under extremely challenging conditions. Considering what happened to what should have been a happy holiday time for everyone, I guess it was appropriate for Hurricane Sandy to trample through the area around Halloween, and live up to the "FrankenStorm" designation for real. Now, I don't know about anyone else, but I'm in the mood for some pumpkin pie. Elle