Last night, for the first time I can remember in a long, long time, the unthinkable happened. And no, it wasn’t that dreaded alien invasion I’ve been predicting for years now. Nor was it an nearby meteor strike, an unexpected visit from Publisher’s Clearing House or President Obama stopping by for a cup of coffee and a discussion of current affairs (which is a good thing because brewing up a pot would have been difficult). You see (wait for it), last night the power went out.

Now, I’m no stranger to living “off the grid,” so to speak. In fact, I’ve had several opportunities over the years to enjoy life without electricity. Specifically, a pair of stints at my and my father’s former residence on Pratt Road (I say former because I no longer have ownership of the old house – damn those back taxes).

Those were the days, let me tell you. Years before I began writing for our hometown daily, I actually spent an entire summer at 326 Pratt Road with no power. No running water, stove, refrigerator, air conditioner, television, video game system, computer or anything else you can think of that requires a 220 volt circuit to operate.

Like Superman with a bad case of kryptonite poisoning, I was powerless.