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TURN OFF THE LIGHTS, 
THE PARTY'S OVER

   The rain was pouring down and the wind was howling last Wednesday evening. I was safely weathering the storm in the comfortable confines of my house, watching the evening newscasters discuss the impending PG&E bankruptcy.
   That's when the power went out, plunging my wonderful world into darkness.
   "That was fast," I announced to my wife. "PG&E runs into a little financial difficulty and they turn out the lights."
   "I think it might have something to do with the storm outside," she replied, knowing I was exaggerating a bit.  "I'll light some candles."
   It's amazing how dark it is when there's absolutely no lights on. I slowly fumbled my way towards the kitchen, where we keep our trusty flashlight just for situations like this one. Naturally, the batteries were dead, and we had no replacements.
   "Nice planning," said my wife as she searched for a candle. "Where are the matches?"
   How the hell would I know? No one uses matches anymore, just like no one uses candles. A romantic candlelight dinner was not going to happen, just like it never happened in the past.
   Fortunately, there was one last resort. While PG&E had let us down, Apple did not. I quickly remembered the flashlight application on my iPhone and turned it on, lighting up our world once again. We could now have a romantic smartphone dinner.
   "Thank goodness we have a gas stove," I said as I pulled out a frying pan. "I'll fry up some eggs and we'll prove we have no need for stinkin' PG&E."
   That's when I learned the pilot lights on gas stoves require electricity to ignite. Apparently, you can light it with a match, if you had matches. And it was probably good I didn't have matches, because there was an excellent chance I'd blow up the house trying to light it.
   Not wanting to go out to a grocery store or restaurant and ruin the adventure, we scrounged around and found some food to sustain us until the power came on, which we were sure would be very shortly. Then we sat down and perused our phones.
   "Did you see the CEO of PG&E resigned the day before they announced their bankruptcy date?" I announced as I read the story online. "They're giving her a $2.5 million severance package."
   "That makes sense," replied my wife. "Why don't you declare bankruptcy and see how much money you can get out of it?"
   As we pondered the absurdity of the situation, I started thinking about my life with PG&E. It had always been good. Smell some gas, and they would respond immediately. Wires down in the street, and a crew was on it. They seemed to be there when you needed them.
   That reputation, if you agree they ever had one, has taken quite the hit lately. San Bruno, the Camp Fire, the unresponsiveness---it definitely was time to take a $2.5 million severance and declare bankruptcy. And now our electrical power was off and they had no idea when it would come back on.
   As the night wore on, we took comfort in knowing our gas furnace would keep us warm. That's when we learned, through our smartphones, that gas furnace safety systems will not allow it to turn on during an electrical outage. That left the fireplace, with no matches. Didn't matter. Pres-to-Logs don't give off that much heat, anyway.
   Thankful that we didn't live in Minnesota, we headed for bed. When we woke up in the morning, there was still no power. At least I could take a hot shower with our gas water heater. That's when I learned our water heater was electric.
   As I drove through my neighborhood on the way to work, a little stinky and disheveled, I saw a bunch of trucks working feverishly to repair some downed power lines. But they weren't PG&E trucks.
   "PG&E contracted with us to get the work done," answered the nice man when I asked him what happened to my utility company. "They didn't have the resources to get all the work done, so they hired us."
   I had a thought. "Would you give your CEO $2.5 million if you were going bankrupt?" I asked him.
   He seemed taken aback, but he had a quick answer. "No."
   "Good enough for me," I said. "Assuming you get our power back, I think I'd like you guys to be our next utility company."
 

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