Baby, it’s cold inside!

I’m a pretty warm-blooded mammal. At home, I’m usually in shorts and a tank-top (unless we’re expecting company). My wife and I quarrel over the thermostat in the car and the ceiling fan in the bedroom. She’s almost always cold. I’m almost always responsible for it, it seems.

But the other day, I got up in the morning when my wife’s alarm went off (she likes to set it a little earlier than necessary and then play “phone” for a little while while still in bed). I went out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

That’s when I noticed a chill.

Our home’s thermostat is almost always set on either 69 or 71. You’d think 70 would be a nice compromise, but you just keep those thoughts to yourself.

Sure enough, the readout on the thermostat said 71, but it was definitely not 71. Just a little to the left on the little screen was a different number: 61. That was definitely not what it was supposed to say.

So, I gave it a little thought and selected the tried and true “turn it off and turn it back on” trick that applies almost universally to everything. Sure enough, I heard the familiar click of the furnace coming on and thought I’d cleverly solved the issue.

But then… nothing.

It powered back down and tried it again, but nope. Just a couple of clicks and off it went again. So, I ambled upstairs to the attic (where it’s even colder). I checked the very few things I knew how to check, none of which helped. Now, I was even colder. Normally, 61 degrees is not what I would consider “cold,” and would in fact think

Continued on Page 5 VIEWPOINT (cont.)

it was nice weather to go rake some leaves or ride my bike, but 61 degrees inside the house is decidedly too chilly for me (to think nothing of my coldnatured wife).

It was still too early to call a professional, so I took a nice hot shower to knock the chill off. Then I got dressed and got to work (still working from home thanks to the coronavirus).

Again, it wasn’t really that cold, but I was cold. There was probably some psychological component to my coldness… like just knowing the heat was out was causing me to feel colder.

I had to make several calls to find an available HVAC person. Apparently I was not the only victim of the cold front that moved in after Thanksgiving, but I finally found Blackwell Heating & Air, and Mr.

Blackwell told me he could get right out. Everyone else was saying “tomorrow” and I did not want to wait.

He did indeed make it to my house in about half an hour. By that time, I had found a hoodie and a cup of hot chocolate (oh, and singed all the hair off the underside of my arms by warming myself on the gas stove burners while my hot chocolate simmered).

Within a few minutes he had deduced that the electric pilot was broken.

Armed with that knowledge, he removed the part, left to get a replacement, and an hour later, I was basking in the sweet heat once more. I paid him what turned out to be a reasonable rate and thanked him for his time and efforts.

Currently, I am typing this as the soft warm air wafts down on me from the overhead vent. The thermostat is once again set on 71 and I’m not even a little bit tempted to kick it down to 69.

Stay warm, folks!