I was at work yesterday when the big blackout hit Los Angeles. Since I work in a high rise, I felt some alarm when I realized that none of the elevators were working. But the phones lines were up, so I was able to contact Joe, who had electricity back in his apartment and was able to check the news reports for me.

It took awhile to determine what was causing the blackout, so I had time to weigh the possibility that this was in fact the attack on Los Angeles threatened the day before by Al-Qaida. My first thought was about how, even though I had dutifully purchased all the elements of a disaster kit for my home, I had no such supplies at work. Or in my car, should I be asked to evacuate.

How does that poem go?

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but with a massive power outage in effect for all areas of Los Angeles