BEYOND WINTER: The Irrelevant Musings of An Old Man—POWERLESS [R, 6-27-24]
From age 10, I grew up on a farm on the dead end of a narrow gravel road. Along that road was one little wire, supported by an occasional wooden post, that ran from the main gravel road to the Heathman’s house, and then down the long hill to our house. I am pretty sure that in the fifteen years my family lived there at the end of the road, nothing ever happened to that single little wire. We never lost power.
Not so with the modern city of Bloomington, Indiana. We lose power here every time there is a breeze. Well, sometimes it’s more than a breeze.
I have not been able to post anything since 4:00 p.m. Tuesday, June 25, because that is when the power went out. Not on its own; it had some help. A pop-up storm. “Pop-up” usually means a gentle little sprinkle that doesn’t reach very far. Not this time. It didn’t reach far, basically only Bloomington, but it was anything but gentle. “Violent” would not be too strong a word. Horizontal rain at high speed. Lightning and thunder enough for a rock concert. And wind! Not tornado winds, nor derecho winds, but strong enough to take down many huge trees.
Amazingly, I don’t think there was any injury to people or houses. But there were so many big trees uprooted, so many long limbs blasted off of other trees. As befits our name, Bloomington has LOTS of trees. Still does, but the body of treedom has suffered a lot of nasty cuts and bruises.
Noticeable to we people, though, has been the absence of electric power.
No TV, radio, refrigerator, freezer, air conditioning, fans, cassette players, microwaves, ovens, clocks, garbage disposals, garage doors… on and on. And, of course, no VOIP phones, no internet, no email. Every time we thought of something to do, no chance!
When I lived on the farm, it would not have mattered much if we lost power. We had a refrigerator, a radio, a small table fan, and a floor lamp. Those were our only electrical appliances. We heated and cooked with wood. We had kerosene lamps. We pumped water. We could keep on living pretty well without “power.” Sometimes “progress” isn’t all that helpful.
I’m glad we lost power, though, because we had to go to St. Mark’s UMC to re-charge our phones and get onto the internet. Pastor Mary Beth set us up in a room to ourselves and stayed to trade stories. Tech guy Gerry hooked us up to the internet. Patrick got us hooked up to chargers. Stephanie made sure we had water. Pastor Jimmy stopped by to say “Hello.” We had so much fun that they said we should come and do this every Wednesday.
Here is a poem I wrote that afternoon:
POWERLESS
Hi, God, it’s me again,
Johney
Or John Robert, if you
prefer
Or just John
That’s what most folks
seemed to feel comfortable calling me
John
Although Bob and Mike
sometimes called me Johney when we were old
I liked that
As you probably know, the
power is out
Gone from my brain as well
as the electric lines
I sit here with nothing to
do
And no interest in doing
it
Hour after hour, just
thinking about life, remembering friends
Recalling all the
cuteness, Margey and Jimmy
Boppy and Kappy
Bibby and Doh
Still joined in the
fellowship of the saints of this morning
Ready to preach, pray, or
die, as Father John required
Not really eager to do any
of them
Just content to be
Sitting here in the early
gathering darkness
Powerless
John Robert McFarland
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