The BLACKOUT was quite a communal event. Post-9/11 NYC is a swell place to behold. I'd already made some supply rounds and any calls I could when night fell. I cooked spicy spaghetti by candlelight for friends and neighbors and drank a cold PABST BLUE RIBBON on Smith street at The Zombie Hut w/acoustic guitar playing locals where Hueston and I wondered how many "hook-ups" were gonna "make it" on the street corner where nobody could really/actually see. I rode my bike w/a flashlight in the pitch black to check up on SBX, who expressed concern, 30-blocks from my home, and she was A-OK. After I saw Mars w/my naked eye, I spent the rest of the evening listening to radio reports while reading comix by fire. Yeah, there were some of those too. The faint smell of burnt offerings filtered the air but none of the Walking Dead came knocking down my door and the Bogeyman was slipping. @8AM, my computer made noise and the clock on my DVD player started blinking. The city should afford to do this once a year. It was an emotional colonic.