Thermostat Smarts
I always thought my dad had a diligent sense of saving energy and keeping the house safe, because he would labor through the house on what felt like an hourly basis, checking locks, checking light switches, and checking the thermostat.
Then one night many decades later, while visiting for the holidays, I woke up at three in the morning hearing a clicking sound over and over. I couldn’t figure out if the heater was failing to start, or if a mouse was starting a pickup game by dribbling ball bearings.
Only the next morning did I piece together the most logical explanation: that my dad was downstairs turning on and off the pull string light in his work room. I confronted my father like a detective wrapping up his final summary: it was you! You were pulling the strings all along!
He had no issue copping to the crime. “I was making sure I got the click right.” All these years of watching him zombie around the house at each potential danger spot, it finally hit me that my dad might have OCD.
He laughs about it to this day, because that’s how our family responds in the face of our collective trauma-induced realities. In the famous words of my ancestors: “What’re ya gonna do?”
Well, I felt I could at least try and do something about it. So, I chose to make comedy in words and in deeds.
Unfortunately, like my forefathers, I also exhibit similar anxiety-inspired behavior in the face of potential safety and energy breaches. Except, luckily for me, I have modern advancements like the smart thermostat.
The smart thermostat provides key value by enabling you to check on the house temperature from anywhere, even another state. If you drive to Wisconsin for the day, but want to make sure the dogs have it cool, you can simply open up your app, check the temperature, and even turn it down. Very smart.
You soon learn not to even check it, because it runs so flawlessly. However, years of programming from my father compelled me to check it right before leaving the house for a trip to the outlet mall last week.
Unfortunately, in this case, the thermostat did not show signs of life, outside of a simple message taking up the last bit of battery power to say: “Battery needs recharging.” Not so smart now!
I charged it for several hours, while worrying the about the dogs, as chows notoriously don’t handle heat very well. After charging, it doubled-down on its smart-ness by informing me that, um, it simply did not feel like it was getting enough power! Wah! So, it still refused to run the air conditioner.
Chatting with the internets on all possible DIY trouble-shooting options, the final verdict came: time to call an HVAC professional. By that time, it was 4th-of-July Eve, also known as the 4th-of-July (observed), or just 3rd of July for those who don’t need a reason to celebrate.
The technician spent his holiday identifying 3 additional problems that would need addressing by applying a careful assembly of dollars. To make it even more complicated, we had a wire configuration that the technician had never seen -- ever. As he emphasized how shocked I should be from this anomaly, he brought in another technician on his holiday, and sure enough, this veteran HVAC expert verified we had a wire configuration, that he too had never seen -- ever. We had the most unique HVAC wiring configuration of all time!
Aside from making me feel special and further in debt, the HVAC team accomplished their task and our house cooled down once again, giving us one last chance for a holiday cookout by way of the drive-thru at Superdawg.
Reflecting on the benefits of picking up some of my dad’s obsessions, I drifted off to sleep that night until it hit me: wait a minute... did I lock the back door?
When the dogs come inside, I always lock the back door. I would have no reason not to lock the back door. It’s second-nature instinct, which probably makes it much more natural to do without thinking. As a result, you don’t necessarily remember that specific moment. You lock it on auto-pilot. Then hours later, you simply can’t recall that moment.
That’s where the paranoia handed down from generation to generation gets to work. If you can’t remember it, then maybe you didn’t do it. Of course you locked the door. Why wouldn’t you? No reason. Just go to sleep. But, you can’t sleep.
So I eventually got up and checked it, putting my mind to rest. As I finally drifted off to sleep, I thought of my dad and all his obsessions, including his most significant obsession -- the lawn. And endless loop of gardening that most likely served to keep him busy and distract him from the voices of all those unchecked locks and switches.
I felt relieved that I did not spend my days obsessing about the lawn. No, I have evolved. I develop stories. And, as long as I keep my mind busy cultivating the comedy, I can distract myself from thinking too hard about door locks, thermostats, and most importantly, whether I turned out exactly like my forefathers.