And Here I Thought Hurricanes Aged Us

Yesterday morning my house was on TV.

Well, my carport, actually.

I live in Wilton Manors. It's a small town on the north side of Ft. Lauderdale.

And it's Last on the List for FPL.

We still have 70% of homes without power. Broward County has almost 90% restored now, same as Dade. In the two counties combined there are only 250,000 still without, and while that's a big number, it's a huge improvement.

There are long extension cords snaking across the roads from one house to another, as neighbors with generators - and those lucky ones, like us, who've been restored - help out the UnElectrified.

So here's the local ABC affiliate, Channel 10, doing a news segment on how Wilton Manors has no juice. I went to tell Walter. Who shortly informed me that the little news segment was being sent live from across our little street.

See, we have power on this side, but across the street does not. This is the usual state of affairs. Katrina was different: it knocked a huge ficus into a sort of electrical trunk, and clearing a downed tree like that takes a large crew days and days of chainsawing. That time, Across the Street didn't even lose power; we were out for five days.

On my way out on an errand, I explained this to the nice lady as she waited for her next live segment to go on. I told her we probably were electrically blessed because we're on the same grid as the fire station and elementary school.

And lo and behold, she mentioned that on her next live segment. That was nice, in a silly sort of way.

But here's the kicker: She identified me as "a young lady from across the street!"

YOUNG LADY?!?!!!

I am 47. She's around 25 or 30.

WHHHEEEEE!!!!!

Oh, for life's little thrills.