The last thing I remember before Hurricane Irene started tearing down trees and electric lines was waking up on that Sunday morning, peering warily at the cacophony of wind and rain outside, checking the digital clock on my stove to verify that it was about 8:00 AM, and then diving back under the sheets to catch a little more. When I woke up an hour later, the power was off, and didn't come back on for six days.
We really are addicted to electricity. We take it for granted that high speed Internet, cable and the myriad of household appliances that we rely on will always function, so the effect of the shut off was akin to a junkie trying to go cold turkey - no 24/7 news, no Facebook, no phone calls, just a lone cell phone and a battery powered laptop. Most nights were spent marshalling a supply of candles to hold back the pitch blackness - because the night really is incredibly dark without streetlights or background illumination - venturing miles beyond my semi-remote location to garner fast food, then watching an hour of something before the laptop died, assuming my daughter had been able to charge it at her friend's house where the lights had never gone out. Finally, after struggling to be cheerful, my daughter decided to flee to her sister's apartment in Boston for luxuries like hot water and real food, leaving me alone.
I usually look forward to semi-isolation. I like to write, which requires solitude. I enjoy silence on occasion so I can collect my thoughts and emotions or simply peel back the layers of my consciousness. The only problem was, after four nights of trying to write and read by candlelight, I was totally disgusted and pretty much braindead, not to mention dirty, sweaty and frustrated. I turned to the only form of non-electric entertainment I could think of: my harmonica.I have had an affair with the mighty mouthharp since the age of 19, when I was the lead singer for the Phoenix Blues Band on Martha's Vineyard, my playing restricted to struggling to find the right note and then simply holding it so I wouldn't sound off key. Through the years, I've fantasized about taking the time to sit down and really learn how to play.
Thus it was as the night came on and my supply of candles dwindled, I attacked a C harp, bound and determined to play the riff from Lil Walter's "Blues With A Feeling" perfectly. I really suck as a musician since I can't read music - I'm simply imitating what I hear. Consequently, I spent about an hour playing and re-playing the tune, every once in a while actually hitting the right sequence of notes, but mostly scaring my dogs with the irritating noise. I finally admitted to myself that I really can't play very well, that Lil Walter really was a talented musician, and that my forte should be restricted to listening rather than playing. The next time the lights go out, I'll try beating on the drums.
NB: Tuesday, 9/20/11: Tinsley Ellis is at the Iron Horse Music Hall in Northhampton, MA
Friday, 9/23/11: James Cotton plays at the Shailin Liu Center in Rockport, MA
Sunday, 9/25/11: Roomful of Blues is at Effin's Last Resort in Smithfield, RI
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
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