The fortunate ones

It's 9:00 on a Tuesday night and I'm feeding quarters into the "Twice The Ice" machine. I don't have a cooler full of fish or a deer to cool down. I'm not getting ready for a vacation or icing down a bunch of beer. I'm filling the cooler to preserve the food in my refrigerator at home. I am without electricity and I'm house camping! No TV, Internet, hot water or lights. Just like an old-time farmer getting up when it gets light and going to bed when it gets dark. It's only been 36 hours, but it feels like forever.

I went to a meeting earlier this evening to discuss helping low income people reduce their power bills. Kind of ironic I guess because I'm really saving electricity right now. But anyway, I told them I had to leave early because I needed to go by Walmart and buy some batteries and ice, maybe even a pizza to eat for supper because I couldn't cook either. They were understanding and couldn't believe I still was in the dark. We had been planning this meeting for a couple of weeks, so I really felt bad. "Sorry I have to cut this short" I told the group. "Tonight I'm gonna party like it's 1699!" We all laughed at my misfortune and they told me not to worry about it. The director of the center where the meeting was held pulled me to the side and said the we all had to be out by 8:30 anyway. "This place is also a homeless shelter and those two guys you saw outside are waiting for you to leave so they can go to bed". She whispered. "They don't want everyone to know. Everybody wants their privacy and we try to accommodate." I hate to say that I didn't even notice the guys outside. I walked right past them and never gave it a thought.

Well we zipped right through our meeting as quickly as we could. Using the term zipped right through and volunteers in the same sentence really doesn't make sense, but we at least reached a stopping point. I told everyone good bye and got in my truck. I cranked the vehicle and this time I did notice the two men standing beside the building, illuminated by my headlights. They were both looking down and I could not see there faces. They wanted their privacy. They wanted to come inside and go to bed. They didn't care if the building had cable or internet. They were not disappointed that the roast they were planning to cook would have to wait another night in a cooler full of ice in a dark garage. They simply wanted a roof over their heads.

So as I drop the last quarter into the ice machine I make a plan. A plan to make this fiasco an adventure with my family when I get home. "Y'all said you wanted to go camping!" I would say. "Let's play cards by the lantern!" Anything but the real truth. We are still so fortunate to have what we have. This dark, powerless structure with cold water coming out of both faucets is home. Our home. We are warm, safe and surrounded by others that love us. Saving electricity.