Thursday, October 16, 2003
Give ‘em the Heater
What a great time of year. Summer seems to be gone . . . even here in Florida. The sky is blue, the breeze is kicking up, the leaves are changing color (and I think you know that color is brown, without a stop at red or orange or yellow).
‘Tis the season for cups of hot chocolate, hot coffee, or hot brevé-mochas. For dusting off that copy of The Cure’s Faith CD, or your favorite Sisters of Mercy. For getting out the “winter wardrobe” of sweaters, jackets, and long underwear. For turning on the heat. For calling up the oil company and scheduling a delivery. And calling the HVAC-repair company to come inspect and service the furnace.
Okay, so it’s not all great.
Using heating oil sucks. Really. It’s a nasty pain in the ass. And—as it’s delivered to our 295-gallon tank that is buried in the ground and sure to have leaks in the fuel lines—not environmentally friendly.
Yeah, we’d love to switch over to gas, but I think we’d have to replace at least three appliances for the city’s utility program, and I don’t think it’s worth it. Not now, anyway.
So, before we have too many more cool nights, I have to call. I’m not running the heat until they come out because I didn’t change the filter last year, and I’m lazy. I’d rather pay someone else to do it while they check our system to make sure we’re not going to die of carbon monoxide poisoning in our sleep.
In other news, I can’t get Adam Green’s “Bunny Ranch” song out of my head.
“Bind me, gag me, take me to the bunny ranch.
People dying, kill me in the packing house.”
Y’know, it almost brings a tear to your eye.