Kodiak's Korner

Defenestrate /(”)dE-’fe-n&-”strAt/ v. To throw a person or thing out of a window.

Right about now I’d like to defenestrate my computer.

The northeastern United States is coming out of what is being called the worst blackout in history tonight. Although it is still unclear what happened, our country's electric grid system showed its age yesterday as millions lost power from Boston to Detroit.

Most of Rochester was in the dark as a result of the blackout from about the start of the evening rush hour until sometime in the middle of the night, depending on where you were. I first noticed a problem at about 4:30 in the afternoon when the radio station that was playing in my office suddenly went off the air. At about the same time our computer network suddenly became very slow, although RIT didn't actually lose power. I decided that it was time to go home then, unaware of the problems plaguing most of the area. I didn't realize the problem until I was just about off campus and I saw an unusual amount of traffic backed up on Jefferson Road and then, a few seconds later, that the traffic lights weren't working.

I had hardly any gas in my truck, so I went searching for an open gas station, but my search was futile. All of Henrietta, Brighton, and Rochester, except for small pockets here and there, were without power. And no power means no gas.

My usually 20-minute drive home ended up taking me more than an hour because of traffic problems. PEOPLE: WHEN THE SIGNALS ARE OUT IT BECOMES AN ALL-WAY STOP! At home I carefully climbed the pitch-black stairs to my third floor apartment, feeling my way along the wall. When I got inside I discovered that my battery-powered radio had no batteries, so I followed a rumor of a Wegmans that was open. I made the 20-or-so minute drive to the store and bought one of the last packages of "C" batteries they had, using up most of the tiny bit of gas I had in my truck to do it. I arrived home, gas gauge sitting on "E" and the large orange gas pump icon on my dashboard glowing brightly.

I once again stumbled up the stairs to the apartment, this time remembering to take the flashlight out of my truck before doing so. I then settled down on my couch with a book and a flashlight and actually enjoyed the peacefulness of the night. The only light I saw was that coming from the nearly full moon and my flashlight. The only sounds I heard was the music coming from my radio or the occasional laughter of someone on a nearly porch. I started to get a feeling of what it must have been like to live in the neighborhood in the early 1900's when my house was first built.

At about 11:30 the power came back on in my neighborhood. I first noticed a flash of light out my window as my neighbor's driveway lights finally turned back on. Then I noticed my refrigerator motor start to whir once again. Almost instantly I heard a cheer go out throughout the neighborhood as all of the residents noticed their lights coming back on.

Today RIT closed, something that never happens. The reasoning was that power hadn't been fully restored to the entire campus early this morning. I didn’t hear about it until 9:00, as I was walking in to the building to go to my office, but it was nice to get an unexpected day off at the end of what’s been a rather hectic week.

Its interesting to think about how much we take our electricity for granted, but yet how fragile the system that brings it to us truely is. Personally, I made it through just fine. In fact, it was nice to be forced to drop everything and to just relax for an evening. I'm glad that the power came back relitively quickly, before any major problems could occur. While it's not something I'd like to go through every day (like the Iraqis have been lately), but it made for a memorable experience.

This past weekend marked the annual Park Avenue Summer Art Festival here in Rochester, and of course, Wild Bill's Sixth Annual Throwdown came with it.

If you aren't from the Rochester area, Park Ave is one of the city's oldest and trendiest areas. It features a unique mix of residences and businesses, with the businesses mainly consisting of small sidewalk cafes, boutiques, and art galleries. Most of the houses in the area were built in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and several have since been converted into apartments. Park Ave is home to many twenty- and thirty-something singles and recently married couples. Every August, the avenue is closed off to traffic as hundreds of vendors and musicians set up for the two day summer art festival. The festival attracts thousands of people eager to buy artwork, listen to live music, or just to hang out and enjoy the area.

As a sort of unofficial tradition, many of the residents of the area throw parties during the festival weekend. The parties range in size from a handful of close friends to hundreds of people. My landlord throws one of the largest, which has become known as Wild Bill's Throwdown.

The party has quite a reputation. Two friends of mine, Shela and Jay stopped by on Saturday afternoon. Neither had been to my apartment before. I saw them walking down the street and walked up to meet them. When Shela saw the place she said "I've been to this party before." I went to two other parties that friends of Shela's were throwing that day. At both she introduced me with "You know that Wild Bill's party? He lives in that house."

I took a bunch of pictures during the party. When I get my photo gallery up and running on this site, I'll post a link.