and the merrimack is running dry

February 21, 2002


Today's Reading
The Birds of Heaven: Travels with Cranes by Peter Matthiessen

This Year's Reading
2002 Book List



It's foggy in Acton where Starship Startup is. So foggy I can barely see my way out of the parking lot. I check the traffic reports and find out there's "foggy conditions" on Rt. 2 between I-495 in Littleton and the Concord rotary. How badly do I want to drive into Cambridge to go to a meeting? More importantly is it more workaholic to stubbornly go to the WA meeting despite the dangerous driving, or to skip it. I vote it's less workaholic to skip the meeting. I monitor the traffic reports for my route home instead of to Cambridge, and when the fog supposedly lets up on I-495 north of Boston Rd. I timidly drive home.

Once I'm on I-495 the fog is patchy and nowhere near as impenetrable as the immediate vicinity of the starship. The driving is slow but not too bad until around Rt. 133, then it stops. Many emergency vehicles with various colors of flashing lights and tones of sirens speed north. When I finally pass I-93 the vehicles are surrounding a very smashed car and there's lots of broken glass on the road. Fire trucks, ambulances, police cars, and tow trucks are putting on a light show and in this fog that prevents me from seeing much else. It's a slow crawl to where I can finally see something besides flashing lights.

At home there's a car in my parking space. I ring the Russian Parking Space Blockers' doorbell and politely state "I'd like to use my parking space now." "What?" "I would like to use my parking space." "It's not our car." "You mean it's not your son's friend's car? or anybody you know?" Nyet.

I lean on the horn. Nothing. Nobody comes dashing out guiltily.

Across the courtyard bright light, conversation, laughter, and bonhomie emanate from one of the units. I start toward the source of the light and laughter. Somebody comes to the door before I even get to the end of their walk asking what the heck I want. "I want whoever is parked in my space to move their car, that's all." He asks the guests "Where are you parked?"

All the party guests respond at once, describing where they parked in detail and asking if it's all right. I finally shout my parking space number from the end of the walk, asking for the person parked in that space to please move. They don't seem to get this. The guy goes on polling each guest as to where they parked instead of just asking who's parked in space such-and-such. Finally somebody describes my space and his car and which way it's facing. I shout from the end of the walk that all I want is for him to move it. He does so, finally.

Now in my kitchen, I put a couple of slices of bread into the toaster oven so I can have my veggie burger on toast for supper. I'm too tired to cook anything more complex. While the toast is toasting, I pick up the phone to see if there are any messages. There's no dial tone! None. Nothing. Not a sound. I go upstairs and check the other phone. No dial tone.

Without even putting a jacket on I go out to the car and drive to the nearest pay phone (not within walking distance), giving up my hard-won parking space. Verizon asks if there's been a power failure (probably - there was thunder and lightning and bad stuff like that) and puts me on hold while they test the line. I stand there in the damp fog staring at the news box on the curb. The Lawrence Eagle Tribune headline in huge black letters reads "Not So Mighty Merrimack". In slightly smaller letters I see that parts of the Merrimack could run dry. I find this alarming.

When Verizon comes back on the line, they tell me to go home and unplug all the phones, wait for at least 5 minutes and plug them in again to see if I get dial tone. They explain this was likely a power surge caused by the cordless phone. Cordless phones do this they say. I hang up, walk over to the news box and buy the paper.

Back home my parking space is still available to me. The toast is burnt. Oops. Forgot about the toast. I unplug all the phones and modems. I eat the veggie burger on the burnt toast and read the competing stories on the front page of the Eagle Tribune.

A hydrologist's report says that parts of the Merrimack are being drained for drinking water, lawn watering, and the like faster than the ground water is being replenished. In time of drought, the river is normally sustained by the ground water in addition to the snow up north. The hydrologist predicts parts of the river drying up within 20 years.

On the other side of front page, a group of harbormasters says the hydrologist's report is nonsense. There is plenty of water in the Merrimack right now and there always will be. It all comes from the snow up north, drought or no drought. The harbormasters believe their eyes not the hydrologist's report. Who should I believe, hydrologist or harbormaster?

I plug the phones back in. The kitchen one gets dial tone right away. The cordless one takes a few seconds but then I hear dial tone. I plug the modem in and try to dial out. No dial tone. I unplug the modem and plug a phone into the jack. No dial tone. Grrr.

Much experimentation later, I determine that both the phone jack and the modem are dead. Power surge indeed.

I survey the wreckage. My printer is kaput. My modem is kaput. The phone jack in the office is dead. And the Merrimack is running dry. Were the Dark Ages supposed to start this soon?

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Copyright © 2002, Janet I. Egan