May 1, 2007--Idiot Lights
Our apartment is being renovated and we needed to vacate. A trip to Florida took care of the first week; but since we had to get back to NYC, a good and generous friend, Jonathan X, is allowing us to camp out in his place.
It is presenting two problems—first, it is such a nice apartment that though ours will be much improved after the work is completed, it will never be as nice as his (so of course, since we can’t control ourselves, we are looking for a local real estate agent to see if there are places for sale in JX’s building); but, second, I’m having a problem with all of his “idiot lights.”
I think that’s what they’re called. The first ones I believe were those lights on automobile dashboards that lit up to alert you to the fact that the engine was overheating or the battery was discharging or you neglected to get the car serviced. They replaced the old gauges which showed exactly how hot the engine was running or how seriously the battery was discharging; and they were called idiot lights because idiots like me, who couldn’t figure out how to read the gauges, were capable of understanding (sort of) what the red lights meant—pull over and call AAA.
Idiot lights in the home are those little red lights that indicate that the fax machine is on, the DVD player is activated, or the toilet seat warmer is working. Of course, out of friendship, I’m not being that literal about JX’s place. There’s no way he would have a heated toilet seat—after all he grew up not far from me in Brooklyn and some of his uncles were associated with Murder Incorporated. How I envy that.
So let’s just say if I were to walk around his apartment to see what I might find, theoretically of course, how may such lights do you think are on all the time—four, six, eight? No more than six, right? I’ll be right back to let you know what I (might) find.
* * * *
OK, I’m back—here’s the list (again, I’m exaggerating a little to make this a better story). This is JX after all!
How does 32 grab you? He’s the (maybe) list:
There are four in the kitchen—the microwave and stove LED clocks plus two on the telephone: the New Call and Line 1 lights. In the living room there are another four—the cable box Power light and the digital clock; the TV Stand By/Timer light, and the Timer light in the AC. We’re up to eight lights.
One the second floor there is an office and there there are eight idiot lights—the fax LED screen, the telephone Line 2 light, the right hand computer speaker light, the Apple Airport light, and four more on the router: the Cable, PC, Data, and Power lights. We’re at16 and counting.
There are, if I have this correct, 13 more in the bedroom—I won’t describe them all but there is one on the TV, two on the cable box, two on the radio tuner, six (!) on the first phone, plus two more on the second phone. I think we’re now at 29.
Finally, we come to the bathroom. There is a Washlet Toto system there—it’s quite spiffy. Oh, I mean there could be such a system if JX were more Metrosexual. It would have three more idiot lights—a Power light, another for the Water Heater (for the electric-powered bidet), and yes, sorry, a final one for the Toilet Seat Heater. 32 in all.
Not only would all these lights make it difficult to sleep without a mask but, in the world of Inconvenient Truth, how much electricity does it take to power all these LED lights? I’ll bet a lot. I have a faulty memory but think I heard on PBS that if we eliminated all of these lights across America we would save enough power to light Chicago.
At a time when, as the NY Times recently reported, some folks are hanging clothes out to dry rather than using their electric or gas dryers (see linked article) maybe it’s also time for the rest of us not to be such idiots.
It is presenting two problems—first, it is such a nice apartment that though ours will be much improved after the work is completed, it will never be as nice as his (so of course, since we can’t control ourselves, we are looking for a local real estate agent to see if there are places for sale in JX’s building); but, second, I’m having a problem with all of his “idiot lights.”
I think that’s what they’re called. The first ones I believe were those lights on automobile dashboards that lit up to alert you to the fact that the engine was overheating or the battery was discharging or you neglected to get the car serviced. They replaced the old gauges which showed exactly how hot the engine was running or how seriously the battery was discharging; and they were called idiot lights because idiots like me, who couldn’t figure out how to read the gauges, were capable of understanding (sort of) what the red lights meant—pull over and call AAA.
Idiot lights in the home are those little red lights that indicate that the fax machine is on, the DVD player is activated, or the toilet seat warmer is working. Of course, out of friendship, I’m not being that literal about JX’s place. There’s no way he would have a heated toilet seat—after all he grew up not far from me in Brooklyn and some of his uncles were associated with Murder Incorporated. How I envy that.
So let’s just say if I were to walk around his apartment to see what I might find, theoretically of course, how may such lights do you think are on all the time—four, six, eight? No more than six, right? I’ll be right back to let you know what I (might) find.
* * * *
OK, I’m back—here’s the list (again, I’m exaggerating a little to make this a better story). This is JX after all!
How does 32 grab you? He’s the (maybe) list:
There are four in the kitchen—the microwave and stove LED clocks plus two on the telephone: the New Call and Line 1 lights. In the living room there are another four—the cable box Power light and the digital clock; the TV Stand By/Timer light, and the Timer light in the AC. We’re up to eight lights.
One the second floor there is an office and there there are eight idiot lights—the fax LED screen, the telephone Line 2 light, the right hand computer speaker light, the Apple Airport light, and four more on the router: the Cable, PC, Data, and Power lights. We’re at16 and counting.
There are, if I have this correct, 13 more in the bedroom—I won’t describe them all but there is one on the TV, two on the cable box, two on the radio tuner, six (!) on the first phone, plus two more on the second phone. I think we’re now at 29.
Finally, we come to the bathroom. There is a Washlet Toto system there—it’s quite spiffy. Oh, I mean there could be such a system if JX were more Metrosexual. It would have three more idiot lights—a Power light, another for the Water Heater (for the electric-powered bidet), and yes, sorry, a final one for the Toilet Seat Heater. 32 in all.
Not only would all these lights make it difficult to sleep without a mask but, in the world of Inconvenient Truth, how much electricity does it take to power all these LED lights? I’ll bet a lot. I have a faulty memory but think I heard on PBS that if we eliminated all of these lights across America we would save enough power to light Chicago.
At a time when, as the NY Times recently reported, some folks are hanging clothes out to dry rather than using their electric or gas dryers (see linked article) maybe it’s also time for the rest of us not to be such idiots.
posted by Steven Zwerling at
10:30 AM
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