Old
Coot Joins the Mole People.
By
the Old Coot (Merlin Lessler)
History
does repeat itself. Ten years ago, NYSEG announced its Smart Meter program.
Nine years ago, I responded with a smart-aleck Old Coot commentary. Last month
the program was launched, with the installation of the first meter in Ithaca,
NY. And, here I am repeating my moan, about how I’ll have to change my ways to
fit into an evolving high-tech world. Smart meters are expected to be installed
in 1.2 million homes by 2022 at a cost of $400 per meter. I did the math;
that’s an expenditure of $480,000,000. I sure don’t want to be stuck with the
bill, so I’m going to become a mole person.
These
meters are so smart they will know when we’re using electricity; NYSEG can then
price it based on the instantaneous cost on the grid. More people use
electricity during the day, so the price will be higher than at night. There
are several periods when the cost will be astronomical, like at the wake-up
hour, when factories and offices are firing up and a legion of teenagers are
into their morning ritual, the “hour of shower.” Another peak comes toward the
end of the workday, when businesses are still going full tilt and people are
turning on lights and appliances at home. The cost will vary throughout the day
and throughout the year, so the smart meter will keep a record of when we use
power. The cheapest rate will be between 11 pm and 6 am. That’s the only time
I’ll be able to afford the stuff. I’ll live out my life in the dark; that’s why
I’m becoming a mole person.
It’s
like being in grade school all over again, except this time around it’s not a
tattletale telling the teacher that I’m chewing gum, it’s a stupid, “smart”
meter telling the NYSEG billing people that I turned on the dishwasher at noon.
The theory is, that when I get the bill for using electricity at peak periods
I’ll change my ways. (Provided they can revive me after seeing what I owe). I’m
not going to wait until my new meter arrives; I’m converting myself into a mole
person now. It’s going to be hard. I’ll get up at 11 pm, take a shower, turn on
the TV and start the coffee maker. It sounds like electricity will practically
be free at that time of the day. Then I’ll put on my miner’s hat, switch on the
built-in light and go out and mow the lawn. I hope the neighbors don’t
complain. But what can you do? When I finish the yard work I’ll take a stroll
into downtown Owego. The Owego Kitchen, Carol’s Art & Coffee Bar and Dunkin
Donuts will be closed. Harris Diner will be closed. Riverow Books will be
closed. I won’t have any place to stop for a chat. After a while people will
wonder what happened to the Old Coot, why he’s not around anymore.
My
whole identity will be stripped away. I won’t be the nice old guy you see
around the village. I’ll be that weirdo that slinks through town in the dark,
in a minor’s helmet. Eventually, I’ll get stopped by the police and questioned
for my odd behavior. They’ll ask me my name and I’ll have a senior moment. I
won’t be able to come up with an answer. They’ll take me away. My family will
report me missing. You’ll see my picture on bulletin boards in supermarkets and
on utility poles, right next to the photos of missing cats and dogs.
Maybe
that’s what they had in mind, the real reason they came up with the smart
meter. They want to rid the world of old coots. I found out who’s to blame. It
isn’t exactly NYSEG. The Public Service Commission is the instigator behind the
scenes. You know, the same group of zealots who made the utilities sell their
generating plants and now force us to select a supplier every year or so. They
said it would introduce competition into the picture and give us choices and
lower prices. That didn’t work, so now they have a new plan, “smart meters.” I
tried to call the PSC to complain. I called at 11 pm, during my mole hours, so
the electricity I used in looking up their number was the cheap stuff. But
nobody was there. An answering machine picked up and told me to call between
8am and 5pm. Apparently, they aren’t getting ready for a smart meter at their
place. They probably haven’t bought any minor helmets either.
Merlin Lessler is a freelance writer who lives in
Owego.
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