sandy (m)

I have a friend whose name is Sandy.  She is a piece of work.  She terrorizes people with her sharp tongue and can hold a grudge like no one else.  Harrison dated her daughter, O, for a brief period.  You would think they had been married and that he abandoned her with three kids the way she reacted when they broke up.  They were 17 years old.

It was hell.

When this "unprecendented storm" of epic proportion raged its way up the East coast, Harrison and I were quite amused that it was called Sandy.  

There simply is no better name.

aftermath (lyn)

Today’s NY Times headline:

A REGION CRIPPLED

Northeast Awakes to Flooding and Huge Damage in Storm’s Path; Millions Without Power

Morning paper not delivered

No national news on TV, only local, all the time

No mail

Lower Manhattan in the dark

Branches from trees outside my apartment flew off over night

Approximately 6 million people without power, with some maybe having to wait more than a week to get it back — the biggest outage in Con Ed’s history

The most destruction to the 108-year old subway system with seven lines flooded

All patients evacuated from NYU Langone Hospital, when the backup generator failed

Stock market closed for two days

And the famous Halloween Parade cancelled

When that girl yesterday wished for a “badder” Sandy, I understood.  It wasn’t a wish for disaster, but rather some weather excitement.  My few blocks in New York are spared.  National television did not air.  Commercial-free TV was focused on the major storm that was coming.  Ya, ya, we’ve heard that before.  The trees outside my window shimmered and rain fell, but hardly worth noticing.

Sandy seemed to arrive, skipping my neighborhood with her full force, causing only a few tree limbs to fall.  My little oasis is spared.  But around me there is devastation.  Power out everywhere.  Homes lost.  Fires.  Floods.  The Jersey Shoreline re-written.

The New York Times said Sandy, “left behind a tableau of damage, destruction and grief.”  No one wants a storm to be this bad.

sandy in the evening (lyn)

Latest NY Times update reads:

HAVOC AS STORM COMES ASHORE

Power Out in Manhattan as Storm Surge Floods Tunnels; New Jersey Slammed

300,000 Con Ed users have lost power, including my friend Gail who lives on 37^th St. on the Eastside.  Some of the power outages are deliberate in order “to prevent damage to equipment stored underground so that power could be restored more quickly after the storm.”

 NYC area wind gusts measure 79 mph at JFK, 78 at Newark, 68 at LaGuardia, and  58 in sheltered Central Park.

All bridges and tunnels are closed.

A crane partially collapses and dangles precariously from the top of a luxury high rise being built on 57th Street.

At 10pm, Mayor Bloomberg urges all limo and taxi drivers to get off the streets.

Further, the Mayor asks New Yorkers to stay where they are and not go out.

The front of a 4-story apartment building is blown off in Chelsea (no one is hurt).

The water level in Lower Manhattan reaches an unprecedented 14 feet.

Cars are seen floating on Wall Street.

The FDR Drive, less than three blocks from my apartment, is flooded.

I look out my window and see no rain and some wind.  I listen to the weather coverage that is on all stations, all the time, and feel like I am hearing updates of a major storm happening in a city far way.

sandy in the day (lyn)

8:10 am

Alexander calls early and wakes me.  I turn on the TV.  Latest updates indicate that Starbucks and the stock market are closed — the first time in 27 years for a weather-related reason.  In addition to all public transportation being suspended, the Long Island Railroad and Metro North get added to the list.  The city is at a standtill.  I look out my window.  It’s cloudy and a little windy.  Pretty unexceptional.

view from my street

10:32 am

Winds are picking up, but nothing major.  The Battery and Holland tunnels will close at 2pm.  Except for the lack of buses passing my apartment, things look fairly normal outside my window.

view from my window

2:46 pm
A little rain and more winds. FDR Drive closed in major sections. Seven-day-a-week Agata is also closed.  Get emails from friends in Denver, Chicago and LA, asking if I'm okay.  Seems funny as outside looks relatively normal, with lots of people still walking the streets.  Nice to be thought of though.  Wish we were awaiting a record-breaking snow event.  Feel slightly guilty enjoying the excitement of an impending storm, as I know others will suffer.  But a furious nature awes me.

3:44 pm
The rain is getting heavier.  Gail calls to tell me Con Ed has turned off the hot water in her neighborhood; she lives only 30 blocks south of me.  My water and electricity are fine.  Valerie calls; she is staying in Manhattan.  I tell her I am going to the FDR Drive to take some pictures.  "Are you crazy?  That's ridiculous.  if you're not going to think of yourself, then think of the others you'd be putting at risk if you get hurt."  She must be confusing me with the guy who is jet-skiing in New York Harbor.


4:24 pm
I am sure I won't get hurt, but I bring ID just in case. I put on my tall purple Hunter rain boats that I rarely get to wear and my new lululemon rain coat (that I love, and have already worn multiple times) and head over to the East River.  

I am not alone.  Many people have the same idea.  A few parents have even brought their young children to check out an empty FDR Drive and the big waves on a river that usually has none.

people walking on an empty FDR Drive

I overhear  a 20-something saying, "I wish it were badder."  I want to correct her grammar but don't.  There is still more to come.

prepping for sandy (m)

I'm not going to lie.  I was fine with the call to action by meteorologists warning us to prepare for the storm.  It is the only way to get my spouse mobilized to help me move the porch/patio furniture.

Me: They say it's going to be a huge storm and we should batten down the hatches.
T: They always say that.  It's just hype.
Me: No, no.  They are using words like "unprecedented" and "historic".
T: Please.
Me: Look, let's just play it safe and take care of the patio furniture and move some stuff in, okay.
T: If I have time.

Apparently,my husband finds some.  He begins by mowing the lawn.  This does not need to be done but it is his favorite thing to do.  By the way, he only does what he likes.  For example, he will take dinner plates out of the dishwasher but he will not put cutlery away because, as he says, "I don't like that."  Presumably, I do.

We spend five hours cleaning the patio, putting umbrellas in the shed. Moving heavy pots of flowers/plants, taking cushions in, rolling up rugs, securing the cover of the hot tub.

T moves the heat lamps to a little nook between two trees and lays them down, putting the propane tanks on the porch.  I blow the leaves off the patio with the industrial-strength leaf blower.

When we finish, we look around and decide the space looks clean and beautiful.    We go to dinner in Cambridge and come back and light a fire in the fireplace.

Sitting on the Adirondack chairs in front of crackling fire and a bubbling water fountain, I understand what they mean by the calm before the storm.

the calm before the storm (lyn)

On September 16, 1999, a Monday, New York City schools were closed in anticipation of Hurricane Floyd.  Alexander was in first grade.

Floyd came with a lot of rain, and not much more.  Alexander and I were disappointed.

Today, the news is much like it was in 1999.  Sandy is on her way, and threatens to be one of the most devastating storms ever.

in the past few hours:

Governor Cuomo has declared New York a state of emergency.

Mayor Bloomberg has issued mandatory evacuations for low-lying areas of New York City.

Subways will be suspended at 7pm tonight.

Buses will stop running at 9pm.

All public schools will be closed tomorrow.

All major networks are covering the impending storm and nothing else.  

Because I live in Manhattan, in a high rise, I am not scared.  I am assuming we will not lose power, and that no one will be threatened.  I get an email from Con Edison telling me what to do in case of an outage, and I get a similar message from Time Warner Cable (OMG, let's hope that doesn't happen, I'm still recovering from my last problem with them).

But the news is alarming, and for people who don’t live where I do, there is reason to be.

My mom left New York early to make it back to the Cape before the storm hits.  I go to Agata to get a few things, and the store is mobbed.  Huge lines for everything.  

While Floyd brought  the same kind of media coverage for a storm that never came, I suspect the same won’t be true of Sandy.

10 reasons to hate Time Warner Cable (lyn)

Reason #1

Thursday

I report no cable in my bedroom.  I reboot the cable box; it’s 10 in the morning and my cable box reads 4:53.

I call and am told that someone can come on Tuesday.  Really, Tuesday.  Four days from today. 

After hours of back and forth calling and some tears, a supervisor at TWC (Time Warner Cable) finds someone to come out on Friday between 8am and 10.

Reason #2

Friday

Nelson comes; he’s great.  After some smart observations and testing he concludes (correctly) that the problem is not with my box, but has something to do with the wires outside my building. 

Shouldn’t someone have been able to detect this before poor Nelson came to my home?

Reason #3

Nelson gives me a case number.  I call TW a few hours later.  I am told, “They are working on the problem.  We have a truck on 78^th Street, between First and Second."  I walk over to 78^th Street, between First and Second.  There are no TW trucks there.

Reason #4

Saturday

I call TW around 10am.  I get a recording telling me the problem in my area has been fixed. My cable box reads 4:15.

Reason #5

I call TW.  I speak to Scott.  There is no record of my previous calls, so we start over. 

Reason #6

Scott suggests I set up a service call, which would put me exactly back to the place I was on Friday when I had a service call.  I decline for obvious reasons. 

Reason #7

30 minutes into a call that is going nowhere, I ask to speak to Scott’s supervisor.  He/she has no direct number.  Instead, Scott connects me to a supervisor’s line, but it re-routes back to Scott.

He tells me a supervisor will get back to me within 12 hours.   Really.  Within 12 hours, MAYBE someone will call me back.  And let’s assume they do.  And let’s assume I am available to answer the phone.  Basically, at that point, I am starting from zero explaining the problem and HOPING that this supervisor has some update on what is being done.  Ridiculous.

Reason #8

I ask Scott to try the supervisors’ line again.  He disconnects me.  I think it’s on purpose. 

Reason #9

I call back.  This time I get a recording saying, “We see there is an outage in your area.”  The recorded message says, “Press one if you’d like to leave a message and someone will call you back.”  I press one and hear, “I’m sorry, our mailbox is filled.  Please call back later.” 

Reason #10

Four hours later I call again, as I have heard from no one.  I am on hold for 13 minutes, all the time listening to music I don’t like.  Finally I get Matt and ask that he connect me to a supervisor.  Another 10 minutes and I am re-routed back to Matt.  Same response as the one Scott gave me, “A supervisor will call you back within 12 hours.”  While I’m on the phone with Matt, I see a call coming in and caller ID identifies the call as Time Warner Cable.  Thinking it’s the supervisor finally calling back, I hang up from Matt.  But it’s not a supervisor.  No, it’s a recording telling me that the outage in my area has been fixed.  It hasn’t been. 

 I feel like I’m in a Kafka novel.  I give up.

Update

Last night we get home at 11:28.  My cable box says 11:28.  I am so happy to have my TV back, but even more happy that I don't have to call Time Warner again.