When I told my dad that I was in a contest with my colleagues Jeff and Judy to see who could go the longest without turning on the heat, he was not impressed.
“What’s the temperature in your apartment?” he said sternly.
“Ummmm,” I said, instantly regretting that I’d mentioned this topic. “It seems to be hovering right around 60.”
“Turn on your heat,” he said.
But I refused. I was wearing layers, and I have an electric blanket, as well as two cats who like to sit on my lap. My head was a little cold, but then I put on my hooded sweatshirt — problem solved. My dad can’t boss me around anymore, anyway, and I know for a fact that Judy’s mother has ordered her to turn on her heat, and she has refused, too. The fact is, you’re just never going to win a contest like this if you listen to your parents. (You can read more about the contest by reading Jeff’s blog, “Type A to Z,” here.)
Now, it’s true that I like to be warm. I love warm showers. I love lying by a fireplace. I love sitting in the sun. But I’m also competitive. The problem is that Jeff and Judy are also competitive. I was eating lunch once with Judy, and when she finished her sandwich before me she announced, “I win.” I said, “I’m not participating.” I mean, you have to draw the line somewhere, and I can’t think of a dumber contest than “Who can eat the fastest?” (Besides, I’m a really slow eater. That’s one contest I would never win.)
But this heat thing, I don’t know. Maybe I can win. When my friend Heather lived in Albany, she never turned on her heat. “It’s perfectly comfortable in here,” our good friend Matt observed one day, while we were hanging out in her living room bundled in our winter coats and hats and mittens, “if you’re dressed for the elements.” Heather’s father finally ordered her to turn on her heat, too, after one of her sisters stayed overnight and got a nosebleed. “When your sisters visit, you must turn on your heat,” he said. So I feel like being friends with Heather has helped prepare me for this contest.
My old apartment, which I vacated in June, was always pretty toasty, because utilities were included with my rent and the landlord kept the heat blasting 24-7. You could basically wander around in your underwear in January. It was nice, but I suspected that this indiscriminate use of heat was not only expensive, but bad for the Earth. Because I lived in Alabama prior to Albany, I have virtually no experience paying for heat, and it’s probably about time I gained some. It might sound sort of weird, but I’m actually excited to learn how to conserve and manage my heat. Maybe it’s just because I’m a control freak, but my new apartment is relatively small, and I think I can minimize my use of heat by getting a space heater. Judy initially suggested that maybe this was cheating, but she has a wood stove and Jeff has a fireplace. So I think it’s perfectly acceptable.
I’d almost convinced myself that I could go all winter without heat, but then some friends stopped by the other night, and it occurred to me that a freezing cold apartment is inhospitable. My Seattle friends are planning to spend a night at my place at the end of November, and I don’t want them to freeze to death. Judy has a similar problem. Her daughter is visiting for Thanksgiving. Shouldn’t she heat the house? Personally, I think she should. Her daughter is flying in from St. Louis. Should she really have to stay in a freezing cold house? I’ll just add that the cold is making me appreciate warmth that much more. I mean, the shower I took this morning was the best I’ve had in ages. I simply did not want to get out.
On another note
I cannot attend this concert, but it should be pretty good. New York City-based singer-songwriter Morley will be performing at 8 p.m. on Saturday at The Sanctuary for Independent Media in Troy. She’s been compared to soul and jazz singers such as Nina Simone and Sade, and I really liked her music when I listened to it on her web page, which you can find
here.
Are you cold? Have any tips on conservation? Comment below or e-mail me at sfoss@dailygazette.net.
