…
I awoke in a posh suite in the Dallas Marriott. The room temperature was a pleasant 65 degrees, so I stayed under the covers longer than usual. During the night, I decided I was too old and too rich to fool around with this project, especially considering the heat would keep me out of my house until the electrical, and air conditioning troubles were behind me. After tea and bath, I hurried on my way, stopping at my favorite hardware store.
I tracked down a sales clerk and asked if he could recommend an honest, qualified electrician for a project at my home.
“Bwaaaa Ha Ha Ha!” He mused.
“I must be a lot funnier than I realized.” I did some musing of my own.
“I’m sorry, sir.” He said, regaining his composure.
“It is just that electricians are hard to come by. You might get a longer list if you dropped at least one of your requirements. You might find one electrician in the county the meets one of your criteria. However, finding one both qualified AND honest? Fuggeddaboudit!”
Undaunted, I went to several other places with the same request, receiving similar reactions at each place. Some found my predicament more amusing than others.
As the morning wore on, the temperature climbed steadily from 80 degrees at dawn to 90 at noon. Soon, the heat would be oppressive.
I retreated to my home and sat glowering in my dark, warm office.
Then I had a brainstorm. My friend Roger works on residential projects. Heck, a couple years ago, he did a serious renovation of the exterior of Casa Burden. He did a good job and charged only slightly more than a brain surgeon. I grabbed the phone and called.
“Hello?” Roger answered.
“Hey, Roger, how’s tricks?”
“Life is good.” Roger assured me.
“I am sure it is. Say, do you know an honest electrician?” I slipped this into the conversation as casually as I could, so he would not know how desperate my situation was.
To my surprise, Roger gave me a recommendation. I hope I thanked him before I hung up and began dialing the man’s number.
Soon, I was talking to the electrician, not one of those 1-800-SCR-EWME rip-offs. The man’s name was Dave. He suggested I contact someone he knew about the A/C problem and offered to come out and repair my electric service at 8:00 a.m. the next day. I did as he asked.
The A/C repairperson showed up that same evening and got my A/C going just before dark. He was great about it too. He did not complain when I peered over his shoulder and offered advice. Even the bill was reasonable considering it took him 45 minutes longer to make the repair with my assistance than it might have otherwise.
That night, I slept in my own cool, dark bed. I missed calling room service for liquor and food, but what the heck. I was home.
I awoke bright and groggy the next morning and managed to get a cup of tea down my throat before Dave showed up – exactly on time.
He examined each outlet in every suspect location throughout the house. Then, he made the diagnosis of a “bad circuit breaker.” My worst fears loomed large in my mind. I swallowed hard and awaited the bad news.
“I’ve got some of these at home.” Dave offered.
“They’re not new, but still good. I may have new buss bars to fit this, too.” He finished.
I felt lightheaded. Did I dare hope the repair could be so simple? Could mere money fix this mess?
Dave retrieved the parts and completed the repairs two hours later. Then, he handed me a bill for something less than the full value of my estate. I felt grateful.
“It might have cost less, but I have a policy of charging references from Roger double my normal rates.” He said, smiling disarmingly as he drove away.
In ten minutes, I was in a cool house watching my own TV and sipping a beverage I made for myself. Well, at least I opened it myself. That counts, too.
Roger was right. Life is good.
...
Friday, September 10, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Adventure Rich Times
…
As I type, the skies are dark gray and winds howl around the doors and windows. There is a creek behind the place, about 120 feet west and 15 feet below my property level. Normally a trickle, today, I can hear water rushing to the sea from the comfort of my den. Pretty cool, eh? It is a perfect day for a murder, or possibly telling a story.
My recent life is an adventure rich environment. Here is an example.
Over a month ago, I noticed my electric lights flickered from time to time. I thought little of it. The temperature outdoors was hovering around 105, so I guessed the local utility was having trouble meeting the demand. As days passed, the flickering became more frequent. Then, I noticed the problem persisted into the relatively cool evening, too. So much for my supply and demand theory.
It is only fair to mention I learned everything I know about electricity from Mr. Wizard on TV, back in the 50s. Still, I took it as a personal challenge to diagnose and repair the problem. Day after day, I studied the pattern of flickers’ time and duration. I suspected one or more of my antique appliances were having an internal meltdown and I was determined to discover which one(s) it might be. I exempted the dishwasher, clothes washer and refrigerator, which I replaced in rapid succession last winter.
As days turned into weeks, I began living more and more of my life in the dark. Through scientific experimentation, I eliminated each appliance, one by one. (Buzz, Pop! Arrgh!) I narrowed the possibilities to two. First, there might be a problem with the service coming to the house. The man from the utility checked the current at my meter and said “Nope. It ain’t us.”
The other possibility was too awful to contemplate. Years ago, I searched the internet for “antique, possibly dangerous, circuit breakers no longer in production” to find replacements for some failed breakers. Lucky for me, there was a museum of electrical switches and breakers only thirty miles away. I drove over there and asked for the size and model breakers I needed. The person behind the counter began laughing uncontrollably.
“Did I say something funny?” I asked.
“Wheeze! Hey, Albert, come see this!” The man gasped.
Albert thought I was hilarious, too. Then, I got the bill. I might have teared up a bit, but I paid their price a sulked all the way home.
Now, I relived the anguish of that long ago experience as I realized the trouble was probably inside the breaker panel.
“Aw, shit.”
No matter. I was determined to fix this. Then, the air conditioning stopped. In an instant, the problem moved from an academic exercise to a matter of life and death. I am a grown man, experienced in the ways of the world, so I knew exactly what to do.
“Hello, Marriott?” I said into the phone.
Next time, I will tell you the rest.
As I type, the skies are dark gray and winds howl around the doors and windows. There is a creek behind the place, about 120 feet west and 15 feet below my property level. Normally a trickle, today, I can hear water rushing to the sea from the comfort of my den. Pretty cool, eh? It is a perfect day for a murder, or possibly telling a story.
My recent life is an adventure rich environment. Here is an example.
Over a month ago, I noticed my electric lights flickered from time to time. I thought little of it. The temperature outdoors was hovering around 105, so I guessed the local utility was having trouble meeting the demand. As days passed, the flickering became more frequent. Then, I noticed the problem persisted into the relatively cool evening, too. So much for my supply and demand theory.
It is only fair to mention I learned everything I know about electricity from Mr. Wizard on TV, back in the 50s. Still, I took it as a personal challenge to diagnose and repair the problem. Day after day, I studied the pattern of flickers’ time and duration. I suspected one or more of my antique appliances were having an internal meltdown and I was determined to discover which one(s) it might be. I exempted the dishwasher, clothes washer and refrigerator, which I replaced in rapid succession last winter.
As days turned into weeks, I began living more and more of my life in the dark. Through scientific experimentation, I eliminated each appliance, one by one. (Buzz, Pop! Arrgh!) I narrowed the possibilities to two. First, there might be a problem with the service coming to the house. The man from the utility checked the current at my meter and said “Nope. It ain’t us.”
The other possibility was too awful to contemplate. Years ago, I searched the internet for “antique, possibly dangerous, circuit breakers no longer in production” to find replacements for some failed breakers. Lucky for me, there was a museum of electrical switches and breakers only thirty miles away. I drove over there and asked for the size and model breakers I needed. The person behind the counter began laughing uncontrollably.
“Did I say something funny?” I asked.
“Wheeze! Hey, Albert, come see this!” The man gasped.
Albert thought I was hilarious, too. Then, I got the bill. I might have teared up a bit, but I paid their price a sulked all the way home.
Now, I relived the anguish of that long ago experience as I realized the trouble was probably inside the breaker panel.
“Aw, shit.”
No matter. I was determined to fix this. Then, the air conditioning stopped. In an instant, the problem moved from an academic exercise to a matter of life and death. I am a grown man, experienced in the ways of the world, so I knew exactly what to do.
“Hello, Marriott?” I said into the phone.
Next time, I will tell you the rest.
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