Wednesday, 12/17/2019

Out the door for a run at 7:30 to find, whoopsie!, it is raining. I knew showers were in the forecast but could I be bothered to go lean over the balcony railing, or to look for green pixels on the weather radar? Oh no… but what the heck, it’s just sprinkling, carry on. So I did, and while my jacket got damp, it wasn’t bad at all.

I hung around the room doing I do not recall what until lunch time. Today was the day the CH publication, Scribble & Sketch, was to come out and go on sale at 12:30. So my plan in the morning was to have lunch, buy a copy, check how prominently they displayed the poem I had contributed, and then go on to FOPAL. But coming out of lunch I completely forgot about buying an S&S, just headed down to the garage and out.

In the evening I learned that they had completely sold out their (obviously inadequate) “print” (local copy shop) run and were taking orders for later. Anyway I got four useful hours in at FOPAL.

When I returned to CH I discovered that there was a local power outage and the building was dark! Well, not entirely; they have a generator which, among other things, keeps the automatic garage doors working, and lights on in the garage, the basement hallways, the lobby and dining room, stairwells. It also runs the freight elevators but not the regular elevators. So I walked up from the basement to the 4th floor, which like all floors above the first, was dark.

Apparently the power problem started at 4:28, which was just about the moment I left the FOPAL parking lot. Now, residents gathered in their floor lounges by flashlight to listen to announcements on the house emergency radios. Every floor had somebody manning the hand-held walkie-talkie for the floor, and everybody observed orderly radio procedure. The front desk made brief announcements, including that supper would go ahead as scheduled.

In the lobby I talked to the head chef and he explained that they had partial power in the kitchen, and their ranges and ovens were gas, so they could finish preparing the main entrees. However the heating on the serving line is induction plates which were not on the emergency power system, so they’d had to dig out the catering trays with the bottled gas flames. Also the dish washers are not on the emergency power, so they’d had to switch over to all paper.

When I got into the dining room I found that they had, indeed, in the hour between the outage and serving time, re-laid all the tables with plastic utensils, paper napkins, and little plastic bottles of water. The serving lines were filling paper plates from catering trays, and everybody got fed.

About 6:10 the three people who were riding with me to the game finished eating and we all trooped down to the garage and drove to Maples in my car. Probably another 10 from CH also went. (Why don’t we have the CH bus available for these games, there’s enough people to fill it? was a topic at dinner.)

Anyway, Stanford romped over Tennessee, leading by 10 at the half and winning by more than 20. Wally had attended the pre-game chalk talk and said the coach’s emphasis for the game was “box out” and rebound. Tennessee has no players under 6 feet, and more than one 6’5″, so it was important to work extra hard for rebounds. Stanford apparently took this advice to heart, as they ended up with 10 more rebounds, quite an achievement against average-taller players.


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