There are some people out there that wait all year for summer. They spend months working out to get their perfect beach body or meticulously plan trips to exotic destinations unknown. People look forward to going to baseball games or fishing. Camping. Kids look forward to not having to wake up every morning for school. I wish that I could be one of these people. Sadly, I am not. Summer has historically been my least favorite season. The best part of summer for me is that day in September or October when it finally releases its scorching grip.
I blame most of my apprehension for this season and most every other eccentricity of mine on my upbringing if you haven’t noticed. There was a rule in my house that the air conditioner was not to be turned on until sometime around my birthday, which is in late June, or very close to the first day of Summer. Now, I don’t care if you don’t believe in climate change but there has never been a time in anyone’s life that is currently walking on this planet that would have thought the heat in central Georgia is near livable, without air conditioning, even in late May. Even with fans running so fast they could lift your house off the foundation, it is far from livable. But, them’s were the rules in our house.
Finally, when my birthday came around we were woken to a great deal of commotion. My dad liked to use all kinds of military-themed commands. I believe this one was “All hands on deck!”, which would come around 6 a.m. and signaled that it was time to perform the ritual of “the great sealing”. The sealing of all the windows in the house. This way when the great machine was turned on, none of the air could escape out into the world.
“I’m not paying to cool down all of Atlanta”. If I had a penny for every time I heard that I probably could afford to cool down all of Atlanta.
Down went the storm windows. Down went the regular windows. Down went the shades to keep the sunlight out. Finally, ON went the air conditioner. The lights would dim. The blowers would crank on, and our suffering was ended.
I made myself a promise as I lay there one evening bleeding sweat from every pore in my body that when I became an adult I would never let a summer go by where I didn’t turn the air conditioner on the day it got above 80 degrees. Growing up the thermostat was set somewhere between a balmy 82-84 degrees. The government recommends setting your thermostat to 78 degrees for maximum energy efficiency. The first time I was at the helm of the thermostat I cranked that sucker down to 45 and put my jacket on waiting for snowflakes to come out of the vents.
I had never been taught anything about the thermostat. I knew if I touched it I’d risk some obscure punishment. To me, it was just a magical dial that you could turn one way and get summer and turn the other and you get winter. I did not know that if you put it down to 45 you’re likely going to freeze the whole thing up and maybe even break it. And that is exactly what happened. I broke the air conditioner in my first apartment in college. The landlords took their sweet time fixing it, probably because of my stupidity. For my stupidity, I was lucky enough that year to spend my 21st birthday in an upstairs apartment in Savannah, Georgia in 100-degree weather with 99% humidity. Even being legally able to imbibe did not end that suffering.
Fast forward to modern-day and I have learned many lessons about the thermostat. The first is that while the government recommends 78 degrees that is only for energy efficiency, not for comfort. Comfort is subjective but is usually found between 70 and 75. The other lesson is that when you are married or living with someone, they will probably not agree on what you think is the most comfortable temperature. If you are not yet married I strongly suggest discussing that before you are legally bound. The final lesson, which we all know, is that the lower that dial goes, the more you pay, but if you perform the ritual of “the great sealing”, you’ll probably pay less. Probably. Either way, you won’t be paying to cool down all of Atlanta.