Weekend Without Electricity
5.22.6
I came up with it a few weeks ago. When I told Autumn about it, she said it sounded like a great idea. We wanted to challenge ourselves, and at the same time gain a greater appreciation for modern living. We were going to spend an entire weekend without electricity.
Friday Night
Initially, we spoke about the experiment as one would their own funeral. We discussed the details of how everything might go, but it always seemed to be in the hypothetical distant future.
Now we're moments away from beginning, and it's all starting to sink in. First, we went through the house removing batteries: The flashlight, the camera, remotes, clocks, phones, my Game Boy, her vibrator. When that was complete we taped down each faucet's hot water knob. We finally ended up at the breaker box working our way down the switches.
Flip, flip...all our dishes now had to be washed by hand, and food could no longer be casually brushed off the plate into the disposal. Flip, flip...food would now need to be cooked on the charcoal grill outside. Flip...the air-conditioner halted abruptly and was now useless in fighting off the near-summer heat.
Flip.
With that last movement of my finger, every light, clock, and television went black. We stood there in quiet darkness for a few moments before the realization kicked in that, "Oh my God...what have we done?"
We immediately began the tedious work of lighting the tea lights we had purchased. By the time we were finished, the apartment was lit up like a Catholic church. The only difference was that each and every flame here represented not a prayer for a loved one, but an immense desire to watch tonight's rerun of South Park.
We sat on the couch trying to figure out what to do. Nothing came to mind. Each idea we had was instantly crushed by the realization that it would require electricity.
Eventually Danielle stopped by, and we wasted the rest of the night away playing Uno by candlelight.
Saturday Morning
It's funny how many of our instincts are shaped by past experience. Each trip I make to the darkened bathroom is accompanied by a seemingly requisite reach for the light switch. During lulls in conversation, I find myself wandering over to the couch, despite the fact that it now points towards a darkened glass square. I wonder what would now qualify as the centerpiece of the apartment. It's an age old question I guess: Where did people aim their furniture before the invention of television?
Electricity is such a simple fact of life that we don't even think about it anymore. Every moment I'm finding myself confronted by the inability to do something. I can't call anyone. I can't drive anywhere. I can't read up on current events. I can't check the forum. I can't buy anything, because all I carry is my debit card. Half my food is microwavable.
Of course, this was what we wanted, wasn't it? After all...we can't learn anything if we don't suffer a little. Right?
Honestly, I'm a little amazed by how many people just don't "get" this. Upon telling someone about our plan for the weekend, the first question out of their mouth is almost invariably, "Did you not pay your bill?" An honest mistake. However, when they discover that I'm doing it out of my own volition, their concern somehow always turns to confused mortification. It's not that I expected anyone to jump on the "no-electricity" bandwagon or anything, but somehow I expected them to understand why someone would do this. Unfortunately, it seems that people are perfectly content taking everything for granted, and would prefer to see everyone else do the same.
On the other hand, most of my close friends actually do understand it. Of course, there are reasons that these people are my close friends.
Saturday Night
We've kept occupied as best as we know how. Earlier, I even convinced Autumn to walk down to the park to play some basketball. Of course, by the time we had trudged over to the nearby courts, we were too damn hot to actually play.
Even when we're not doing anything in particular, though, I'm trying to stay busy. Without all the distractions of electricity, I have time to find myself being more inquisitive. For example...during our long, hot walk, I found myself watching the prairie dogs intently. I had never actually noticed the sound that a prairie dog makes when it's angry. It kind of growls at you like a...well, like a dog of the non-prairie variety. They also have a specific bark to warn each other of danger (I had always thought that "prairie dog" was a silly name for these creatures. It turned out to be rather fitting).
I watched them for quite a while, marveling at how the warning cries would spread through their little prairie dog town. I wanted to know everything about them. Were it not for the fact that I needed to catch up with Autumn, I probably would have explored a little more.
Of course, the lack of electricity not only inspires due to sheer boredom...but also out of necessity.
It didn't take us long to realize that a tub full of cold water wasn't going to warm up, no matter how long we let it sit. Eventually, we started leaving pots full of water out on the porch. After the sun had heated them, we would pour them into the tub. Of course...that only helped a little bit. It wasn't until we filled a giant watering can with water for heating, that we had fully solved the problem...
...and that, my friends, was how we invented the shower.
Sunday Morning
Mornings are inevitably lazy. With no concept of time, waking up seems pointless. When did I finally rise this morning? Was it seven? Was it ten? I really couldn't tell you.
I do remember lying in bed for quite some time. Autumn was still asleep next to me. Sound from the outside world drifted through the open window. Here a car would drive by. There the sound of music. It all sounded so foreign...clearer than I'm used to.
I finally wandered out to the living room when Tira rang our doorbell. She was here to drop off an "electricity-free entertainment care package." It contained a Maxim magazine, some books, and a few board games, including one called "The A-MAZE-ing Labyrinth."
Not wanting to wake Autumn, I used the care package to keep myself occupied. I began by flipping through the magazine. That didn't take long to finish, though, as most of the drivel filling the pages of Maxim isn't really worth reading anyway. By the time Autumn stumbled out of the bedroom, I had already invented and tested a way to play The A-MAZE-ing Labyrinth against myself. ("Yellow Me" won, by the way.)
Of course, with all the things we've deprived ourselves of, like entertainment; at least one thing has shown a dramatic increase. This whole experience has certainly taught me something about the past: There's a reason that families bore so many children before the inventions of electricity and birth control.
Sunday Night
Writing by candlelight makes me feel as though I have something important to say. It seems like I should be drafting up a declaration of some sort, or perhaps warning about the impending arrival of redcoats. But alas...
Very shortly, we'll be flipping the switches back on. I must admit...I'm pretty excited that this is almost over. I can't wait to do all the things that I haven't been able to do for the past two days. Taking a hot shower and eating a warm meal are probably at the top of my to-do list. I've developed quite the odor over the weekend...
At the same time, though, I'm very happy we did this. As expected, this was a tremendous learning experience. I'm sure I'll one day fall back into old habits, and when I do, it'll probably be time for another weekend retreat. Currently, though...I doubt I'll be taking things for granted any time soon.
Simple things like driving to the store, and microwaving my leftovers seem like such a blessing right now. This whole experience has given me a ton of respect for anyone who lived over 100 years ago...and we didn't even really come close to dealing with their problems. What we had, was merely a taste of their daily reality.
So, that's it...pretty soon, I'll be sitting at a computer typing this up, and life will begin again. For now, I think I'm going to sit on the porch and enjoy my last few moments of the simple life.
And yes...I would recommend this to everyone. At least once...
