It was ten years ago today that a blackout darkened most of the northeast and Ontario. (I was at work on the 16th floor on 42nd Street when the lights went out and as it was less than two years since 9/11, a lot of people immediately feared the worst.) The power was out in parts of NYC for 29 hours and while much of the city spilled into the streets for wild parties and literal fucking, I spent my night reading magazines by the light of menorah candles, which was all my West Village roommate and I had in the house. Ho-hum. For dinner we had pizza from the long-gone Goodfellas, which was the one place nearby that was open. (They had gas ovens.) On our way home, a lone NYPD cruiser crawled up Bleecker Street as the officer in the passenger seat gently chided the crowds on the street, “Please return to your homes. The beer in your fridge is getting warm.” Where were you and what did you do that night?