Grand Moff Ticonderoga

You know that sound in Star Wars where Grand Moff Tarkin gives the orders to test the battle-ready capabilities of the Death Star, but before he gets a chance the Rebel fighters blow the whole thing up? (Note: apparently good timing is not needed when being considered for a promotion to Grand Moff from Regular Moff.) The midget control room guys in the black helmets pull some levers down and clear as day, there’s that glorious sound.

Eeeeeeeeeuuuuuouououuououooooooommm…..

I’ve always loved that sound – not because of the impending destruction of those who face off against the Empire, but rather because some clever Foley guys working for George Lucas created a sound for “blowing up a planet.” Since no one had blown up a planet to date (in ’77), he got to decide what it would sound like. Who knows, maybe the Foley guy, Derek Ball, had been privy to a planet blowing up and had the sound stuck in his head. Of course, that means there’d probably be some decent astronomy literature I could reference, so it’s likely not experience, but rather just brilliance on the part of Derek Ball. Can’t you just hear it in your head? Eeeeuuuuuououououououooooommm.

Why do I talk about a 29 year-old sound effect today? Because yesterday, I swear I head that same exact sound outside my office window.

No, no one blew up the Tanning Planet store across the street; our building instead had a transformer get rocked and force two of our three towers into emergency generator power. Initially, this did not affect me. The backup power supported all the offices around the exterior of the building, while the interior ones were left wondering if they’d be sent home for early dismissal. However, there was simply too much commerce still going on for the generator, and after 30 minutes, we blew the gasket and were down and out as well.

What happens in an office with no power?

First, the employees try their best to be resourceful and continue working. Calculations are done on solar calculators, stacks of filing actually gets filed, and people make incessant lists of “what to do when we have power again.” Of course, this phase will only last 20 minutes or so, based on the reliance on technology the corporate world has undertaken.

Next, employees really start to reach for things to do, only to be thwarted by their underestimate of just how much of a building actually runs on power. People will revert to using battery-powered laptops, yet remain dumbfounded when they send something to the printer and it doesn’t print. Another co-worker attempted to bide her time with some snacks, opting for microwave popcorn. (Turns out, microwaves aren’t powered by hunger. Yet.) My favorite was when a colleague came into my office asking to sharpen his new box of pencils with my electric pencil sharpener. He muttered something about how he’d been meaning to do this for weeks, but didn’t know of anyone else with a sharpener. And since I was just filing, he thought now would be a good time to sharpen his set of brand new Number Twos.

And as he left my office with a whole lotta dull writing utensils, he broke the news to me:

“Hey Chris, I think your pencil sharpener is broken.”

Sometimes the jokes write themselves, folks.