The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

We just got an inquiry from a woman who wanted to rent our little bungalow next door, the 1940’s house we bought that Ruby, our resident stripper from the ‘30’s built with her vaudevillian husband Harry Vine. Nice stage name, Harry! Ruby grew up in our old shack before hitting the circuits but eventually came home to the South End, built her house next to her mom’s and taught dancing in town. Probably not pole dancing, just waltzes and such.

The inquiry wanted to know if we could disconnect wi-fi and if there were power lines around the house. She had recently returned from Nepal and apparently the electronic ‘grid’ was more than she could bear, having become sensitized in her absence to what the rest of us barely notice. We replied that the wi-fi could be turned off but the electricity that flows throughout the house might be an issue. Me, I’d have told her we could shut it off at the breaker panel and she could live in the dark without heat or hot water, might feel like a Tibetan monk in a cave after a few days. But the mizzus told her that maybe Ruby’s wasn’t the dream vacation she envisioned for herself and good luck finding what was.

I suppose if I spent a year in Nepal, coming home would be a shock. Television, internet, commercials, billboards, the constant bombardment of 21st century technologies. Most folks, it’s just the opposite. They can no longer imagine living life if it meant sacrificing those. We got a renter up at Ruby’s this weekend and last night the power went off about 4 in the morning. When he woke up, no lights, no toaster, no coffee maker, no TV, no reason to live. He called his daughter who texted us and said her pop was ‘freaking out’. I had gone down to get the Sunday papers and noticed all his curtains and shades pulled. I guess if you have no lights, why let any from the outside in either? Or … maybe this was an indication that our guest was in full panic attack. As you can well imagine, the situation was Grim. How many more minutes could he manage? How long before suicide seemed the better option? When, oh Lord would help arrive or the power come back on? Was the entire country de-electrified? Had the Russians cyber-struck the Grid? Or aliens? Or … worse?

Well, one minute after the distress call came in, the power company had restored the lines and electricity was flowing normally down to the South End. Yeah, it was a close call. But no life was lost. I did notice, though, the shades are still drawn, probably an indication of lasting scars. Even an hour living in pre-digital America can leave irreparable wounds.

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