I was an Eastern bastard sweltering in the dark (anyone raised in Alberta in the 1970s will get the reference -- I hope). I got to be one of the 50 million for whom the lights went out on Aug. 14, 2003.

I went on two long bike rides that night (I drank all my beer with my neighbors in the early hours of the crisis -- no point in waiting for it to get warm), in part because I thought this is something I should see. One excursion was at dusk, the other in pitch darkness.

Here are a few observations:

The most ironic: A Clairol Herbal Essence shampoo commercial was being filmed in the pit at Trinity-Bellwoods Park. The crew had its own generators and, therefore, light! Precious light! People ringed the rim of the pit (it was once a creekbed but got filled in a century ago or more). "Moths to a flame," was one thought. The more ironic one, to me, was: "Since people can't watch television commercials tonight, then they're doing the next best thing: watching commercials being made!"

Surrealistic: The dead streetcars, stuck wherever the power went off. If you've never seen it, check out the old video or DVD cover for the movie Last Night and you'll know what I mean. Actually, rent the flick sometime. It's great!

Outrageous: The lights appeared to go back on first in the banking towers of the Financial District! It just proof to validate what I've known intuitively all along: If our banks can't foreclose 24/7, the whole economy is in danger of collapse!

Heartening: Seeing the local hardware guy accept IOUs for batteries and whatnot for people who couldn't pay with plastic or who had liquidity problems because the bank machines were shut down. Not being gouged by the local corner store. People being good to each other. People having fun (the drum and guitar circles, the impromptu dance party at Queen and Spadina). In many ways, it was the best night ever to be a Torontonian.

Heart-breaking and haunting: Listening to a talk radio show the next day and listening to a scared, addled, helpless old woman trapped by herself in a high-rise because the elevators weren't working and she was too frail to walk down 18 flights of stairs. When the host asked her if she had anything to eat or drink, she simply said: "Crackers and juice."

The blackout was great for the young, fun and ambulatory, but I don't think our most vulnerable citizens saw it in quite the same way.

Wryly amusing: When the beer store at Bathurst St. and College opened up for business after power had been restored, there were at least 200 people in line -- outside the store, that is! Nothing like a crisis to remind a person of what's important, I say! :)