Will it Float?

I began composing an 'Ode to a Craft Town Storm' during my assist slots this evening, throwing in a hefty dose of 'Zen and the Art of Turning Pole' for good measure. I even had an appropriate proverb to get the ball rolling.
Until it all went black.
And black was immediately replaced by flame.
I used to find power outages somewhat romantic, what with the candles, and the quiet...
Now, when the power goes out, I sigh as I race to put out the inferno that is shooting out the glory hole, shut off all the breakers, and pray silently that it will come back on in a few minutes. The first few hours are actually quite fun. You basically just frax up the furnace, and entertain yourself using only your mind, the people around you, and a flashlight or two. This usually devolves quickly into chaos. The beat boxing started early, and the freestyling followed shortly thereafter. Sean put on the "space suit" and did the robot while composing a nasty beat, highlights were Ethan's rhyme about Mac and Cheese that went for several minutes, and Anderson's high-pitched rap about "who ate the chili dog and left that shit in the sink." Then, there was the pipe cooler origami boat race, complete with simulated stormy weather. We actually tried to sing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" in a round, and Sean did headstands on the marver. Had a little dance party until, finally, the water fights broke out. Sopping wet, we sat around and cracked on each other for another hour or so.
At the two hour mark, the power had not returned, and that is where the party ended. Letting the furnace cool off too much could cause the refractory to crack and explode, along with the glass inside. This is a situation you avoid at all costs. Ethan began putting together the venturi burner, but after some serious difficulty in removing the burner head, we gave up and went for the door. The rest is just boring technical jargon and fire, but what worries me is the furnace not re-lighting after most of the power was restored. The safety system is oldish, and operates on a very delicate sensor (we call it the purple peeper) bulb-type apparatus. When I finally cut out, the sensor appeared to be working, because it was audibly clicking when we torched it, but it would not turn on the gas. I don't envy Ethan's position at this point, being that several things could be wrong, and he gets to find out by process of elimination.
The storm was amazing, but I am too tired to ruminate further.