Weathering the Storm « PREV | NEXT »: Dark Streets on All Hallow's Eve

October 31, 2012

Slow Recovery

In a way, things are worse the second day after a disaster than the first. You have to bite the bullet and take an ice-cold shower if you are going to take any shower at all. You have to use up the last of the milk before it goes bad in the unelectrified refrigerator.  You have to contemplate opening one of the unappetizing cans (baked beans? diced tomatoes? sliced peaches?) for your next meal. You have slept too much, since there is nothing to do after dark but get into bed and hope for eleven or twelve hours of oblivion.

Enough of this second-person crap.  You (if there is a you out there, and of that I have my doubts) are probably safe and warm somewhere.  I am safe, and not freezing, but still living in the major black-out area that is lower Manhattan.  Nary a store nor restaurant is open for miles.  If I look out of my window at night, I see only dark windows. (Where are the other candle-users?)  The oddest part is that if I venture uptown, to 42nd Street or above, everything is basically normal, with open stores, crowded restaurants, functioning offices.  But getting there is the trick.  It was hard enough yesterday, when only a few people were out and about.  Today many people are trying to drive to work (or take the free buses, or grab a cab or limo from among those that are cruising the streets), so the streets and buses are jammed.  Most of the five million people who normally take the subway on a given day are all trying to get from here to there by other means.

This morning I shared a limo with a couple on their way uptown to the vet hospital with their little dog, who had a chemotherapy appointment they didn't want to miss.  They too were from the black-out area, and besides all the same problems I had, they didn't have enough water to take a shower. But they were cheerful and kind (they didn't have to share the limo with me, but did it out of generosity, toward me and toward the driver). I hope the dog will be all right. 

All the major cultural venues--Broadway theaters, the Metropolitan Opera, Carnegie Hall, Lincoln Center--continue to be darkened, at least for tonight.  I have no idea when I will next be able to attend, much less report on, a cultural event.  When my iPad is charged up, I am rereading Dombey and Son.  I could be reading Scandinavian mysteries instead (I downloaded two before the hurricane), but Dickens is less agitating under conditions like these.
October 31, 2012 8:15 AM | | Comments (0)

Leave a comment


Creative Commons License
This weblog is licensed under a Creative Commons License.


    ARTicles ARTicles is a project of 
    the National Arts Journalism Program, an association of some 500 journalists in the United States. Our group blog is a place for arts and cultural journalists to share ideas and information, to celebrate what we do, and to make the case for its continuing value. ARTicles is edited by Laura Collins-Hughes. To contact her, click here.

    ARTicles Bloggers Meet our bloggers: Sasha Anawalt, MJ Andersen, Alicia Anstead, Laura Bleiberg, Larry Blumenfeld, Jeanne Carstensen, Robert Christgau, Laura Collins-Hughes, Thomas Conner, Lily Tung Crystal, Richard Goldstein, Patti Hartigan, Glenn Kenny, Wendy Lesser, Ruth Lopez, Nancy Malitz, Douglas McLennan, Tom Moon, Abe Peck, Peter Plagens, John Rockwell, Werner Trieschmann, Lesley Valdes and Douglas Wolk. more

    NAJP NAJP is America's largest organization dedicated to the advancement of arts and cultural journalism. The NAJP has produced research, publications and discussions and works to bring together journalists, artists, news executives, cultural organization administrators, funders and others concerned with arts and culture in America today. more

    Join NAJP Join America's largest organization of arts journalists. Here's how more

see all archives