Powerless
Shocked!
Recently, during a thunderstorm one evening, I lost electrical power for a short period (about a minute) several times. This was quite inconvenient since I was playing on-line bridge with my computer. I got kicked out of one game because I couldn’t re-boot fast enough. Nothing earth shattering, but the fun was just about to begin.
The next morning, as I was preparing to leave for bridge (what else), the power went out again. As I stepped into the garage, forgetting the power was out, I automatically hit the button to open the garage door – but up it went! Huh, the power has returned. Oh, would that it were so.
I return later that afternoon, go to the fridge to get a drink and – whoa! The little man that lights the inside has taken a break! A quick inspection finds that I have about half my electricity working. But, no refrigerator, no air conditioning, and no (God help us) computer.
Breaker – breaker! Let it be a breaker… No, not so lucky as that. After exhausting my limited knowledge, I was forced to call the Electric company (who shall remain un-named, since they have changed names so many times I don’t think they know who they are). I ran long extension cords from working outlets to get the fridge and computer working while I waited for the power company to come.
Two hours later they came…and they pried, and they probed, inside and out. Sorry, Reverend Snodgrass, you need an ELECTRICIAN! A word that strikes fear in the heart of the happy homeowner! And away they went, merrily on their way to destroy the hopes of the next victim.
Obtaining the name of a qualified electrician, Greg, from a trusted friend, I was able to get him to come over later that same day. He, ladies and gentlemen, is the only “good guy” in this adventure. Competent, qualified and helpful. Now we begin the twisted route to recovery.
First, Greg says, I need access to the “meter” but your power company experts, who should know this fact, locked the meter. Now, we must call the power company and have them issue an order to unlock the meter. Aye yi yi! It’s now 5 PM so I call the power people and they quote 2-4 hours. Greg gets me back on temporary 110 volt lines (no A/C) and leaves for the day. I hope the power people show. They do. 8PM and the meter is unlocked.
Day two. Greg arrives and begins his prying and probing. “It’s worse than I thought” says he, A phrase which will come up frequently in this story. “It’s not in the meter but in the underground cable. Can that shed (an 8 X 10 wooden structure built by a former owner) be moved?” Not that I know of (it’s worse than I thought)
Says Greg “Would you like us to leave the debris from the tear-down in the yard or call someone to haul it away?” By now we have an assistant on the way to help with the destruction of the shed and the digging of the trench. Oy vey, it’s not going to be a good day. Nonetheless, I leave for several hours for my bridge game.
After a thirty day drought, in the middle of my bridge game, the heavens open up and thunderstorms and heavy rain begin as I ponder the fate of my ditch-digging crew. I arrive home and find them slogging about and trying to find the best way to dig under two fences, two neighboring yards, and the tree roots that have enmeshed the underground cable with their roots. Remains of the shed are strewn about and there is a contractor who has been called waiting to see how much I can be talked into paying for having him haul them off to never-never land. We negotiate from $200 to $150 and he says he will return at about 9 in the morning. The other workers depart at about 4 O’ clock with the promise of an early start in the morning.
Day three. No rain yet. The diggers are there by 8 and the hauler and his helper get there by 10. When the shed parts have been loaded there remains five 5 gallon partially filled paint cans. I am told they can’t take them because they are hazardous waste. For another $10 they are swiftly added to the back of the takeaway truck.
As I prepare to leave for the day’s bridge game, I am given the expected scenario for the rest of the day by Greg. They will finish their work sometime before I get home (around 4) and immediately call the power Company. At this point I will have no (zero) power until the power company comes out and officially restores service.
I return, as does the rain, around 4. The workers are gone, the house is in darkeness. After 2 or so hours of sweat, I see the Electric Company truck stop outside. Glory hallelujah! I go out to greet them and they get out and go across the street to another house. A wrong address I speculate – but no! After a few minutes the repairman returns and I ask if I’m next. Nope – not on his list. AAUUUGGGHH! Another 3 hours and the same man returns with the order to plug me in. Working outdoors in the rain with zillions of watts and amperes requires great caution, so I am not surprised that it takes another hour to get my power back.
I love a story with a “moral.” An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. This whole nightmare and the expenditure of thousands (literally) of dollars (of MY money) could have been prevented by the original contractor spending about $5 for a few feet of plastic conduit. No doubt, the contractor was guided by his own aphorism “A penny saved is a penny earned.”
God Bless America
Recently, during a thunderstorm one evening, I lost electrical power for a short period (about a minute) several times. This was quite inconvenient since I was playing on-line bridge with my computer. I got kicked out of one game because I couldn’t re-boot fast enough. Nothing earth shattering, but the fun was just about to begin.
The next morning, as I was preparing to leave for bridge (what else), the power went out again. As I stepped into the garage, forgetting the power was out, I automatically hit the button to open the garage door – but up it went! Huh, the power has returned. Oh, would that it were so.
I return later that afternoon, go to the fridge to get a drink and – whoa! The little man that lights the inside has taken a break! A quick inspection finds that I have about half my electricity working. But, no refrigerator, no air conditioning, and no (God help us) computer.
Breaker – breaker! Let it be a breaker… No, not so lucky as that. After exhausting my limited knowledge, I was forced to call the Electric company (who shall remain un-named, since they have changed names so many times I don’t think they know who they are). I ran long extension cords from working outlets to get the fridge and computer working while I waited for the power company to come.
Two hours later they came…and they pried, and they probed, inside and out. Sorry, Reverend Snodgrass, you need an ELECTRICIAN! A word that strikes fear in the heart of the happy homeowner! And away they went, merrily on their way to destroy the hopes of the next victim.
Obtaining the name of a qualified electrician, Greg, from a trusted friend, I was able to get him to come over later that same day. He, ladies and gentlemen, is the only “good guy” in this adventure. Competent, qualified and helpful. Now we begin the twisted route to recovery.
First, Greg says, I need access to the “meter” but your power company experts, who should know this fact, locked the meter. Now, we must call the power company and have them issue an order to unlock the meter. Aye yi yi! It’s now 5 PM so I call the power people and they quote 2-4 hours. Greg gets me back on temporary 110 volt lines (no A/C) and leaves for the day. I hope the power people show. They do. 8PM and the meter is unlocked.
Day two. Greg arrives and begins his prying and probing. “It’s worse than I thought” says he, A phrase which will come up frequently in this story. “It’s not in the meter but in the underground cable. Can that shed (an 8 X 10 wooden structure built by a former owner) be moved?” Not that I know of (it’s worse than I thought)
Says Greg “Would you like us to leave the debris from the tear-down in the yard or call someone to haul it away?” By now we have an assistant on the way to help with the destruction of the shed and the digging of the trench. Oy vey, it’s not going to be a good day. Nonetheless, I leave for several hours for my bridge game.
After a thirty day drought, in the middle of my bridge game, the heavens open up and thunderstorms and heavy rain begin as I ponder the fate of my ditch-digging crew. I arrive home and find them slogging about and trying to find the best way to dig under two fences, two neighboring yards, and the tree roots that have enmeshed the underground cable with their roots. Remains of the shed are strewn about and there is a contractor who has been called waiting to see how much I can be talked into paying for having him haul them off to never-never land. We negotiate from $200 to $150 and he says he will return at about 9 in the morning. The other workers depart at about 4 O’ clock with the promise of an early start in the morning.
Day three. No rain yet. The diggers are there by 8 and the hauler and his helper get there by 10. When the shed parts have been loaded there remains five 5 gallon partially filled paint cans. I am told they can’t take them because they are hazardous waste. For another $10 they are swiftly added to the back of the takeaway truck.
As I prepare to leave for the day’s bridge game, I am given the expected scenario for the rest of the day by Greg. They will finish their work sometime before I get home (around 4) and immediately call the power Company. At this point I will have no (zero) power until the power company comes out and officially restores service.
I return, as does the rain, around 4. The workers are gone, the house is in darkeness. After 2 or so hours of sweat, I see the Electric Company truck stop outside. Glory hallelujah! I go out to greet them and they get out and go across the street to another house. A wrong address I speculate – but no! After a few minutes the repairman returns and I ask if I’m next. Nope – not on his list. AAUUUGGGHH! Another 3 hours and the same man returns with the order to plug me in. Working outdoors in the rain with zillions of watts and amperes requires great caution, so I am not surprised that it takes another hour to get my power back.
I love a story with a “moral.” An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. This whole nightmare and the expenditure of thousands (literally) of dollars (of MY money) could have been prevented by the original contractor spending about $5 for a few feet of plastic conduit. No doubt, the contractor was guided by his own aphorism “A penny saved is a penny earned.”
God Bless America
posted by revsnodgrass | 10:01 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home