Maybe it’s just the heat, but I find myself being dragged down big time even as the slightest hint of a coming change in season (even here, the days are getting shorter enough to notice in the mornings and evenings) indicates this long, hot summer can’t go on forever. It seems hard to believe: today we hit 105 and the pool is still well over 80 degrees; running errands in the early afternoon meant once again avoiding the dreaded flesh-touching-car-interior experience you just get tired of after months of the same with no break. After awhile it just kinda gets you down…

But I was thinking today of angels and demons, and how close they both seem to me right now.

I’ve been haunted by a street person my work mates and I encountered in Vancouver the other night. He was asking everyone he encountered for change, and when he came to us, I couldn’t take my eyes off of his glassy, silver eyes before he was brushed off quickly and curtly by my friends. I hadn’t gotten a chance to fish into my pockets to give him something, and I told them afterwards we should have given him at least some of our change, because you never know when there are angels around you. The two of them being at least agnostic (if not atheist), I wasn’t surprised at being rebuked for my comment, but the whole incident left me feeling weary, troubled, and disengaged from my surroundings.

Attending Mass today at St. Anne Catholic Church, the priest gave an interesting homily, comparing the technological advancements of the past 500 hundred years with the seeming lack of progress in the study of human relationships and our human nature over the same span of time. His point was how little we as God’s creatures understand about ourselves as beloved children of God - something Henri Nouwen wrote so wonderfully about in his book Life of the Beloved - and how afraid we are to release ourselves to God and relinquish the control we desire over our lives. He pointed out that it is through the sacraments of the Church, and the divine grace we receive through them as children of God, that brings out the “better angels of our nature”, and us together in ways our own selfish impulses would never allow us to do.

The way I see it, the angels and demons in ourselves reveal themselves in two alternative realities - that you’re so small and insignificant that there is virtually nothing most of us could do (outside of, perhaps, not going to work and telling no one, or stopping all payments of our bills) that would get a rise out of anyone, or that the things we do and the decisions we make in some way do matter and fit into some far bigger picture than we as mere mortals are privy to.

Perhaps this is something only God understands out of His knowledge of us as human beings in general, and love for us individually. I sure hope so, for with Tracey in bed and no evidence of anyone or anything going on or around outside in our Gilbert neighborhood this Saturday night, it’s just me and the rabbits hanging around in our own isolated air conditioned space. There may be four million people - give or take a million - also sharing this space called the Valley of the Sun, but I can’t help but see in the endless, mindless cycle of work, chores, sleep, then work again (in the same damned heat) for the paychecks that subsidize this lifestyle something entirely without any greater purpose.

Brian Wilson, I think, understood this better than anyone when he composed the words to his 1971 song ‘Til I Die that appeared on the Beach Boys’ album, Surf’s Up:

I’m a cork on the ocean
Floating over the raging sea
How deep is the ocean?
How deep is the ocean?
I lost my way
Hey hey hey

I’m a rock in a landslide
Rolling over the mountainside
How deep is the valley?
How deep is the valley?
It kills my soul
Hey hey hey

I’m a leaf on a windy day
Pretty soon I’ll be blown away
How long will the wind blow?
How long will the wind blow?

Until I die, until I die

These things I’ll be until I die
These things I’ll be until I die
These things I’ll be until I die
These things I’ll be until I die

If it is indeed true that there are angels and demons around us and in our nature, tonight those demons seem to be winning out. Tomorrow is another day.

While the calendar reads August 19th, the sad reality is that the Red Sox season ended at around 11:45 PM EDT last night, when, with the bases loaded, Yankee nemesis Derek Jeter flaired a double down the right-field line at Fenway Park, clearing the sacks and giving the Evil Empire an insurmountable lead they would never relinquish, thus sweeping a double-header from the Boston nine and effectively closing the book 2006 season that has been by and large pretty colorless by nature.

I can’t tell you how disappointing being swept by the Yankees feels - especially when the Sox couldn’t even win a game started by the grossly incompetent Sidney Ponson. It’s not like they laid down and took it up the you-know-where - after all, even after being blown out by a 12-4 score in the first game, the good guys did a great job crawling back from deficits throughout the second game and even held a three-run lead of 11-8 going into the seventh inning. When reliever Craig Hansen got the first out, Yanks’ manager Joe Torre - showing far more mangerial savvy than Terry Francona ever has during his entire tenure in Boston - decided to intimidate the youngster by pulling some of his starters and substituting them with his normal regulars (starting with Jason Giambi).

How did Hansen react? Like the French army whenever it is called to fight. Basically, he rolled over, walking Giambi and giving up a gazillion consecutive singles. Francona, knowing he had no other choice but to bring in veteran Mike Timlin to stop the bleeding, did so, but Timlin, looking more and more like a washed up, punched-out heavyweight beyond his years with every outing, luckily got Johnny Damon on a pop-up, then couldn’t get anyone else out. Even after Jeter’s double, Francona left him in to absorb some more pounding, and that as they say was that.

The days are getting shorter - heck, you can see it in the mornings, and soon in New England, the warm days will no longer be able to overcome the coolness of the nights. Fortunately, the Pats will soon get their season underway, and amidst the lengthening shadows at Fenway Park, Theo Epstein and the front office brain-trust will start looking at what went wrong in 2006. I hope they don’t take too long. Truth is, Theo’s got to look himself in the mirror, for it was he who he made a bunch of crappy trades over the winter and, then ignoring injuries, underachieving veterans, and the July trading deadline, left himself basically without a pitching staff come August. Let’s face it - anytime you’re running out journeyman junkballers like Jason Johnson and talented but raw kids like Jon Lester and Craig Hansen against the Yankees in the most important doubleheader of the year, you’ve %$#@^ up big time.

Message to Theo: stop believing all that press about you being the so-called “boy wonder”. Sure, you had a good year in 2004 - pulling off that gutsy Nomar trade trade that got you a World Series championship was the transaction of a lifetime, but since then your track record is pretty lousy. I’m gonna run that track record down in a few days, but the bitterness resulting from today’s two losses is too hard pill to swallow for me to do so now.

Better luck next year, Red Sox - your 2006 season is over. All we can hope for now is that someone, somewhere and somehow, can beat those freakin’ Yankees so they don’t make it to the World Series.

And A-Rod, no matter what happens, you’re still a jerk.

The fallout continues over yesterday’s court decision by a U.S. District Court judge declaing the NSA surveillance program unconstitutional. Perhaps if this was 1968 or 1978, when the world was a lot larger, secrets could be more easily kept, and our enemies were of the traditional kind such as governments with organized armies wearing uniforms as such, the existence of and need for such a program would warrant both scrutiny and debate.

But it’s not.

It’s 2006, and if anyone questions the need for programs that are inherently focused on detecting patterns of information and communication involving identified parties both here and overseas, might I submit for your consideration the following:

* It appears Germany narrowly avoided terrorist attacks on their rail transit system last month. (Hat tip: Jonah at NRO’s Corner)

* Bad things that can happen when you try to date someone outside your religion.

* Bomb-making equipment and individual martyrdom tapes have been found in connection with the terror plot uncovered by the Brits last week.

* Iran appears to be taking and planning new steps to further destabilize the Middle East, alll while the August 22 date in which it says it will respond to the U.N.’s call for it to halt its nuclear program looms closer. (Hat tips: Free Republic)

* And we must never forget what happened on 9/11.

And, if that weren’t enough, we’re also having to increasingly fight this battle knowing that not everyone in our country is on our side and supportive of this struggle:

1) I’m concerned we now have a 24/7 media concerned only with being “the first” - not “the best” or “most accurate” - without any pretense or conscience for journalistic standards that might give them pause before revealing information that could be useful to those who wish to do us harm.

2) I’m concerned about an increasingly-aggressive, antagonistic, and sophisticated ACLU organization dominated by a far-left, anti-Bush, anti-Christian ideology that seeks to use the courts to issue rulings that emboldens our enemies and endangers the lives of innocent people.

3) I’m concerned about the increasing willingness of professionals within our nation’s intelligence infrastructure to use leaks of classified information to harm the Administration and its national security goals. Powerline calls it “engaging in a virtual war with the Bush administration”, I call it borderline treason.

I still think a lot of this still has to do with anti-Bush hatred resulting from Florida in 2000. I sure hope so. One can only hope that the impending end of the Bush years brings with it a greater willingness on everyone’s part to come together and work together as a nation to protect our country and its interests from those who wish to destroy it.

Extra! Extra! Read all about it! The Great White Shank is back from Vancouver, just in time to make sure Goodboys Nation covers the world like no other - eat your heart out, Dan Rather!

Around the world:

Al-Qaeda’s #3 man is suspected as the mastermind behind the recently-foiled plot to blow up airliners traveling from Great Britian to the U.S. Our correspondent from Captains Quarters has the details.

The shaky cease-fire in Lebanon is bolstered by the news that 3,500 U.N. peacekeepers will comprise the force to keep hostilities from Israel and Hezbollah from resuming. Too bad it’ll never work - especially when you hear about stories like this.

Facing the nation:

Acting on behalf of our good friends at the ACLU, a federal judge in Detroit finds the NSA’s surveillance program (the one revealed by the New York Times late last year) unconstitutional.

Editorial Page:

What a joke. Just one week - one week! - after the plot to blow up jetliners traveling from Britain to the U.S. (discovered, BTW, in part with the help of this same program), some truly clueless, leftist judge appointed by Jimmy Carter, acting on behalf of people who I guarantee would be the first to scream, “Our country is not safer under President Bush!” were Al-Qaeda to blow up a few buses in, say, New York City, rules the program unconstitutional.

Simply put, Judge Taylor’s ruling and actions are shameful. Is there anyone out there who truly believes the Left in general, and Democrats in particular, take the need to protect our country from terrorists and terrorism seriously? By sharing a bed with groups like the ACLU who deliberately and willingly work to make our country more vulnerable to terrorist attacks is, in my view, akin to treason - and I don’t use that word casually. Look, I like many have major problems with the Republicans in Congress, but all this is going to do is further motivate conservative voters out there come November to do whatever they can to keep the Democrats from taking control of the House or Senate. Crank at Red State has more.

Local news:

Due to recent occurences inside the bunny room here at 1025 W. Hearne Way, the rabbit previously known as “Big Pint” has formerly been renamed “The Big Nipper” (or “Nipper”) for short. Said rabbit needs a bit of an attitude adjustment while he adjusts to his new surroundings. Given his past history this behavior is quite understandable - you just have to be careful about moving your body parts a little to quickly when ‘Nip’s mouth is near…

Sports shorts:

The Red Sox FINALLY made some moves today, trading for the Blue Jays’ Eric Hinske and signing former Haverhill native, Northeastern University star, and Detroit Tiger first-baseman Carlos Pena to a minor league contract. Well, they needed to do something (more on this tomorrow) and they desperately needed someone who can hit left-handers and provide a spell for both third-baseman Mike Lowell and Kevin Youkilis at first - both of whom seem to have hit a wall of late.

Weather:

There’s been no action to speak of this hurricane season, and Robert Hahn at Red State notes the folks at The Weather Channel are pretty bummed out about it.

Religion:

Here’s something you won’t hear from the Episcopal Church’s leadership - a U.S. Roman Catholic bishop takes on Islam. (Hat tip: Red State)

Oddly Enough:

A ‘beserk’ squirrel trashes a home across the pond in ‘jolly old’ after mistakenly entering the home through the ceiling and frantically trying to escape by destroying what he could before, um…spitting the bit. I like this line: “An RSPCA spokesman said the incident was very unusual.” Yeah, right - squirrels doing house damage is very unusual. Anyone out there care to share their own squirrel stories?

Even though I kind of predicted this a little while ago, it grieves me greatly to have to watch the Sox sink into the west like from a California beach at dusk.

It’s late after a night of dining and hob-nobbing, but let the world know I kinda like it up here in beautiful Vancouver, British Columbia. For one thing, there’s not a lick - and I mean not a lick - of heat or humidity in the air. Just a pleasant, dry 71 degrees with bright sunshine. The city of Richmond, where the airport and our company offices are, seems to be kind of a bedroom community with a huge Asian community. So far, from a dining point of view I’m not amazed at the number of Southeast Asian restaurants, which are everywhere - that shouldn’t come as any surprise given the population mix - but I am surprised at the number of Greek restaurants, which seem to be quite prevalent as well. Also, I can’t believe the number of Starbucks’ stores - in Vancouver’s downtown especially, they’re everywhere - sometimes on both sides of the same street corner.

Some other casual observations:

* It would appear the moist climate is perfect for growing hedges, as they are everywhere in all shapes and sizes, and seem to include every kind of greenery imaginable.

* I love the various dark green firs, spruces, pines and hemlocks. They are really beautiful.

* The wild rabbits that appear in the parks here are kind of cream-colored and very cute.

* There are no interstates or main highways as we know them in Arizona. Everything is very compact - the main routes seem to be two or three lanes at the most. The city proper has many tall condominium buildings - I don’t know how expensive they are, but the views from them must be an amazing thing to wake up to in the morning and cocktail to after a long, hard day of work.

It is quite beautiful up here, and if you’re looking for a refreshing change from the summer, you can do a whole lot worse than checking out Vancouver.

1. So here I am at Phoenix’s Sky Harbor Airport. It’s 9 AM, I’m on my second small Bass Ale draft, and I’m listening to surf punk and the Ramones at the Terminal 4 Desert Springs Brewing Company. Life right now seems very VERY good.

2. Given the increased airline security - the difference between a few weeks ago when I went back to Massachusetts for the Goodboys Invitational golf weekend and today is absolutely mind-boggling - I was amazed that the process went so smoothly. A big thumbs-up to the TSA folks at Sky Harbor - they told everyone exactly what to do and what was expected, and the lines were processed both smoothly and efficiently.

3. The big difference you see first is at check-in, when bags (including yours) are lined up to go through the detection system that you never would have seen a week ago. Lots of carry-on luggage…

…which, of course, makes loading (and unloading) the aircraft much quicker. It was weird to see overhead compartments 70% empty - it seeems most people were just saying, “the hell with it” and sending their carry-ons through check-in with the larger bags.

4. Of course, I still find it both infuriating and illogical to have TSA treat all airline passengers alike, when, of course, they are not. I wonder if the public will soon grow weary of the practice, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see some kind of profiling system begin to take shape soon. TKS at National Review Online thinks - as I do - that the time has come for profiling of passengers, and that, regardless of what the ACLU bozos, CAIR, and liberal/progressive moonbats think, those who fit certain demographic need to be scrutinized far more closely than those who do not fit the potential terrorist profile.

Consider this: we ALL have a profile. You see young families congregating around a gate for a flight bound for Orlando, you have a particular profile in mind. You see elderly people boarding a flight for Vegas, you have a particular profile in mind. Businessmen and women armed with cell phones, Blackberrys and laptops - the same thing. Likewise, you can tell when someone like me, Rob, or Dave, for example, walk into an airport, we’re not using babies as a ruse to hide explosive mixtures in formula, we’re just trying to get to the next business meeting, GOP gathering, or New Orleans Saints road game.

Sooner or later, I’ve got to think the federal government, Department of Homeland Security, and TSA will wise up. Identify the common profiles of those throughout the world who fit the terrorist (or potential terrorist) mode, and concentrate you efforts there. By doing so you will be able to walk that fine line between trying to keep our skies safe and allowing people the freedom to travel with convenience and confidence that we’re doing the right thing.

UPDATE: Sounds like the Brits are moving in that exact direction. Good for them.

Today business calls and I’ll be blogging the next several days from beautiful Vancouver, British Columbia. Believe me, especially after the last week, it will be great to get out of this Arizona heat.

The recent terror plot uncovered by the Brits and the new regulations mean I’ll be checking my carry on, thank you, but the real impact is that I’m leaving on a 10:15 flight this morning but am being picked up by the airport shuttle at 6:45 - and the airport is only a half-hour away. These kinds of inconveniences I can deal with, since they pale against the alternative - like, say, being blown out of the sky at 36,000 feet.

A couple of observations as Major League Baseball prepares for its stretch run and the football exhibition season starts:

* Turns out The Anchoress is an avowed Yankees fan (well, no one’s perfect!), yet even she appears to have jumped ship off the S.S. A-Rod. Check it out - it’s a pretty funny post. And I couldn’t agree more.

* The Red Sox have closed back within 2 games off the loss column by feasting on the Baltimore Orioles. I can’t help but think, however, that come October, they’re going to wish they had taken care of a little business against those vaunted Tampa Bay Devil Rays.

* This week the Sox begin a very rough stretch that features the Tigers and Yankees, not to mention another West Coast road trip. But having Jon Lester and Jason Johnson as your 4-5 pitchers is not going to put the fear of God into anyone.

* But having a healthy David Wells back and being able to plug him in as your #3 is just as good as making a mid-season trading deadline pick-up.

* It looks as if this is the season reliever Mike Timlin became mortal. I have to think his participating in March’s World Baseball Classic has been a contributing factor, as he’s not the only major league ballplayer who participated in that series that is having problems both health and performance-wise.

* Say, maybe that’s an excuse A-Rod can use…

A couple of quick football notes:

* Maybe Rob can explain how one of his team’s quarterbacks can be sacked by the team mascot and put out of the game. But he seems pretty happy with what he’s seen from Reggie Bush so far.

* Common wisdom says the Patriots are making a big mistake allowing Deion Branch’s contract to keep him off the practice field, but I trust Bill Belichick and the new three-tight end offense he’s putting in place. Tom Brady will have enough bodies to throw the ball to, and new running back Laurence Maroney looks like a keeper.

Thursday, 8 AM. I step outside into the bright Arizona morning and realize immediately that if it’s not cooler outside it sure is a heck of a lot drier. Drinking my coffee, I assess the situation before me: I’ve got no A/C and the forecast is for a high of 106. I’ve got one room in the house struggling to stay at a breezy 84 degrees with four uncomfortable rabbits (two of which are NOT happy sharing the same living space), and the others at what seems a humid 1000 degrees centigrade. I’ve got a guy telling me a mismatched equipment issue is gonna cost a minimum of 5K - perhaps as much as 9K - to fix, and that won’t happen for another week. My home warranty company has basically told me “rotsa ruck” and given me a $306.10 kiss-off. I’ve got a Hawaiian cruise I’m about to cancel, a Yellow Pages opened to the Legal section, and a brand new credit card offer (with temporary checks and a 20K credit line!) that I just got in the mail yesterday staring me straight in the face on the counter.

“Well this sucks”, I think to myself.

8:15 AM - I start thinking about that thunderstorm the other night. Perhaps we somehow got hit by lightning, in which case case our home insurance might cover the loss. Now there’s a thought! I immediate get our Met Life rep on the phone, but she’s not in the office, so I leave a message. Now I need to talk to Vince again to see if he thinks lightning could have had something to do with it, so I call Certified A/C again, but again get their out of office message again and ask Vince to call me immediately.

8:30 AM - All along, something about Vince’s visit yesterday had stuck in my craw as wrong - you know, like Barry Manilow, Rod Stewart, Carly Simon and Toni Tennille all thinking they have the talent to sing Cole Porter. I kept thinking about the freakin’ mess he had made of my laundry room with all that crappy foam insulation coming down from his trip into the attic, and how I was the one left to clean it up. I then remembered how a previous company that Fidelity had sent (called Clockwork Engineering) had not only fixed the problem but left the laundry room spotless afterwards; I recalled being amazed at seeing the guy covered in sweat from head to toe on his knees with a broom and dustpan sweeping up the floor.

And that’s when I realized I deserved better. As a consumer. As a human being. As a stupid Arizona homeowner.

I look at all the HVAC repair invoices on my counter - I had had to drag them all out while talking with the Fidelity authorizations guy. And I call Clockwork Engineering. I tell the woman who answered my sad story and ask if they could send someone out for a second opinion - after all, I’m now a free agent (so to speak), and if I’m gonna have to dole out thousands of dollars, I might as well get another opinion and make the best best deal I can. I know I can’t expect immediate help - after all, I’m probably one of hundreds of people in the Valley suffering from an A/C outage - but, given Vince’s assessment, I’ve got more than a few days to get another opinion, right? The woman says she’ll have her husband Dave call me when he has a chance.

9 AM - The phone rings. I’m thinking it’s Vince, but it’s Dave. I tell him my sad tale and the story of the mismatched equipment. “That guy’s full of $hit”, he says, “everyone and his brother in Arizona has mismatched equipment. The builders do it to increase the airflow because of the heat and the house designs out here. Hell, I have mismatched equipment in my house. The guy is full of $hit, and Fidelity is full of $hit. Where do ya live?” When I tell him my location and how he’s been here before, he says, “Hell, I remember you - you’re the one with the biggest damned rabbit I’ve ever seen!” (referring to Marble, our 16 lb. male bun who has the run of the house). “It just so happens I’m heading over to your area and will stop by after my next call.”

10:30 AM - The doorbell rings, and it’s Dave, and he’s got one of his workers with him. “Let’s see if we can get this thing resolved one way or the other”, he says, immediately heading towards the laundry room. “Say”, he says, “it’s hotter in here than it is outside!” I nod.

11 AM - Dave and his workmate reappear, drenched in sweat. “You have a dead blower motor and a contactor. I’m heading off to Carrier and get the parts for you. Y’oughta be up and running by the end of the day, cost you no more than around $500.”

“Hello, Hawaii!”, I think to myself. Today has just got a WHOLE lot better, and I’m ready to break out the boat drinks. “But what about the mismatched equipment, the control board, and the five thousand dollars? Or even nine?”

“The guy is fulla $hit. For one thing, the control board is fine, just a couple a worn points, but nothing bad. As for the mismatched equipment, it’s like I told you, it’s something everyone does out here. Call Fidelity and tell ‘em what I told you.”

“So no one has to go through my roof to match this stuff up?”

Dave laughs. “Even if I had to replace the whole damned unit up there, all I’d have to do is replace the molding around your attic entry, and that’s only because of the framing up there. I pass the old pieces down, someone passes the new pieces up. Simple. That guy just didn’t want the work. A lot of A/C guys around here are like that, y’know - there’s so much work that it’s like shooting fish in a barrel; you pick the jobs you want and where you want them.”

“Any chance we were hit by lightning?”

“Naw”, he says, “if you were, trying to get a nine-thousand dollar insurance settlement would be the least of your problems.”

12 noon - Dave reappears again and looks unhappy. “The motor I got you is defective. I’m heading back to Carrier to get a replacement.” I sigh.

1:30 PM - I hear sweeping sounds in the laundry room. Sweeter music, I’ve never heard. Dave runs the system through one final check, then, satisfied, goes outside to fill out the paperwork. I’m so happy I grab a couple of cold Diet Sprites out of the refrigerator to reward the guys for their work. Unfortunately, I forget to put my shoes on and burn the bottoms of my feet badly on the white-hot driveway.

1:50 PM - The paperwork is complete, the bill just shy of $500: a replacement blower motor and contactor, and a fan relay solution Dave used in place of a $1,200 alternate solution he says wouldn’t work as well. It’s a lot of dough, but I’ve got a $306.10 check coming to help ease the pain. The A/C units starts the hard work of cooling down the house, and after watching Dave and the other fellow drive away, I triumphantly shut the portable A/C unit and fan off. While the house remains hot, we’ve got A/C once again and a laundry room that’s spotless.

2:30 PM - The house has cooled to 90 degrees. As Dave suggested, I call Fidelity and now I’m talking to John in the authorizations department. John, I can tell, is a number cruncher, with no sense of humor. He tells me that, while it is true the use of mismatched equipment involving A/C condensing units and evaporative coils is a common practice throughout the Southwest, the differential should really be no more than 1/2 a ton, not one ton, as in our case. Nevertheless, John says, Fidelity covers such mismatches, even those greater than a 1/2 ton, but only in California, Colorado, Utah, and New Mexico, not (as it just so happens) in Arizona. “It’s in the fine print”, he says, “I can point it out to you.”

“No, I believe you.”

3:30 PM - The house is at 85 degrees. All of a sudden, we lose our power. Once again, the house is dead quiet. I hold my breath and feel the heat beginning its return.

3:40 PM - The power returns with a pop. The A/C starts back up again and digital timers flash 12:00 all over the house. Everywhere, that is except our bedroom clock radio, whose LCD display is displaying something that looks like hieroglyphics. I unplug it and plug it back in again. This time, the display looks like something in Chinese. I sigh.

4:30 PM - The house is at 81 degrees. The rabbits seem to sense all is OK, because they no longer look like road kill in a cage. I’m in the pool cooling my burned feet, reflecting on what has been a very stressful day and trying to figure out the number of days until I turn 55 and become eligible for residence in a luxury adult-only apartment community. I suddenly realize I never got a return call from Vince. I get out of the pool and, still soaking wet, I call Certified A/C and once again get their out of office message. I thank them for not returning my call and politely inform them that: a) I have my A/C back at a cost of $500, b) that their service sucks, c) that I’ve complained to Fidelity about them, and d) they ought to consider purchasing a broom and dustpan to clean up after themselves.

I return outside to the heat, the pool, and my boat drink. I’m thinking disaster is something that’s always gonna be just around the corner, but at least for now, at this moment in time, all seems right with the world again.

Living here in Arizona, it’s easy to take for granted the joy the quiet hum of cool air circulating in your home or business brings. Hence, the kind of silence one typically might long for at, say, a monastery or church is not only highly unwelcome, but during the months spanning May and October, absolutely feared.

I write this because we experienced the “dreaded silence” this past Tuesday night. We were having one of our typical early morning thunderstorms (for some reason, out here in Arizona during the monsoon season you often get your storms not in the late afternoon, but in the hours between midnight and 6 AM; why that is is a matter for another time), which set in motion a chain of events that, were they not so stressful and aggravating, would be seen as almost comical:

Wednesday:

4 AM - After a close bolt of lightning and accompanying rumble of thunder, an uneasy quiet falls over the house. I sit up in bed with a start. “Shit!”, I say, “we’ve lost our A/C”. Tracey grunts and rolls over. Rather than panic immediately, I take a quiet breath. I check the alarm clock - it’s still working. “Double shit!”, I say to myself, we didn’t lose our power, which means we’ve lost only our A/C - in an Arizona summer, not a good thing.

4:15 AM - In cases like this, the first thing you do is check the circuit breakers - perhaps the lightning caused them to switch. I go outside in the pouring rain armed only with my trusty flashlight. I find the panel and flip the breakers off and on. Back in the house it’s still quiet, the only sound the pattering of rain on the windows.

4:30 AM - “Houston, we have a problem.”, I tell Tracey. “Our A/C is officially off.” Knowing that the Fidelity Home Warranty office - which would be our first call - doesn’t open until 7 AM, I lay back in bed, wondering exactly what the coming day will bring. Having experienced this before, odds are it won’t be pretty.

4:45 AM - I sit up sharply. “Wait a minute”, I say to no one in particular, “losing your A/C in Arizona qualifies as an emergency at Fidelity!” I dash to the phone and call Fidelity, getting their office is closed message, but - BUT - I can press 4 if this is an emergency involving plumbing, electricity, or A/C. Excellent. I press 4, but only get another message saying the office is closed until 7 AM. I slink back to bed and sleep fitfully until the witching hour.

7 AM - I call Fidelity and give them all the details. They inform me a company called Certified A/C will call me within three hours. I tell the service rep that in three hours my house will already be starting to heat up, to no avail. The waiting game begins.

11 AM - It’s been four hours, and the house has warmed to over 80 degrees. Finally, the phone rings, and it’s Vince from Certified A/C. He tells me Fidelity gave him the wrong number, which is why he’s been delayed. “Don’t worry”, he assures me, “I’ll be there between 12 and 5.” I ask if he can’t get here sooner. “I’ll be there between 12 and 5.”

2 PM - The house is at 85 degrees, and I’ve brought out the fan for the rabbits, who are starting to get uncomfortable. Vince arrives, and immediately sets out to assess the situation.

2:30 PM - Vince reappears, soaked from head to toe in sweat. “Kinda hot up there!”, he says. “Yeah, it’s getting kinda warm down here”, I reply. Vince gets right to the point. “Bad news”, he says, “your blower motor, contactor, and control board are shot. I’m off to the Carrier store to see what I can get for parts, but I doubt I’ll be able to get them before next Tuesday or Wednesday at the earliest.”

“That’s ridiculous”, I reply. “Hell, Fed Ex and UPS can send anything overnight. I’m sure that includes A/C parts.”

“I dunno”, sniffs Vince. “I’ll give you a call in an hour or so once I find out what Carrier and Fidelity says. As it is, it’s a two-man job, so I wouldn’t be able to get to it until tomorrow at the earliest. Oh, and sorry I made a mess of your laundry room.” I write Vince out a check for $45 (the Fidelity service fee) and watch him drive away. The laundry room is covered in pieces of foam insulation, and as I’m sweeping it up, I know I’m in for a long night.

4:51 PM - The only silence in the house is the lack of communication from Vince, as portable fans are whirring everywhere. Outside, the temperature is 103; inside it’s 89 degrees. I call Certified A/C, and get their message that the office is either closed or they’re on another line. I look at the clock. It doesn’t take an Einstein to figure out what the likelihood is. I leave a message and hope for the best.

6 PM - I’m off to Lowe’s to find me a portable room air conditioner, as the thermostat is now officially off the chart. Turns out these suckers are VERY expensive, and there’s no way I’m spending $300+ for a short-term solution. I get me one of these Korean $60 dorm window units and hope I’ll be able to patch together a solution for the rabbit room.

7 PM - The Korean plastic/metal solution fires up and cool, dry air starts pouring out the front, hot, sticky air out the back. Because we don’t have windows that go up and down, but sideways, we can’t put it in the window, so we place it on a pet carrier and point our portable fan back towards the house to disperse the unit’s hot air. We nail a comforter over the room’s opening (it’s an open room without doors) and drape the bottom over the top of the fan.

8 PM - Our temporary solution seems to be somewhat working - the room has “cooled” to the low 80s with good air movement - but we’re paying a hideous price, as the rest of the house is slowly being transformed into a murky Louisiana-like swamp. I don’t know how hot the rest of the house has become, but I know that it’s very close (if not warmer than) the temperature outside, which I’m guess is between 95 and 100.

10 PM - It’s bedtime, and Tracey and I disperse - Tracey in the room with the rabbits, me in a closed-off north room whose door has been closed all day. I put the ceiling fan on high, and try to sleep, knowing I’ll need all my energy for whatever will be coming my way tomorrow. The room feels like it’s around 90, so sleep does not come easily.

Thursday:

7 AM - The phone rings. It’s Vince. “Didn’t Fidelity call you yesterday?”, he asks. “I haven’t heard a thing, from you or them, Vince”, I reply. Vince then goes into this long schpiel that starts with, “You’ve got big problems.” He tells me I’ve got mismatched equiment in the house because of a 1-ton variation between my A/C unit’s outside condensing unit (5 ton capacity) and the inside evaporative coil in my attic (4 ton capacity). He says Fidelity won’t pay for any repairs because they consider it mismatched equiment, and that to match it up will cost at minimum FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS. “It could be more”, Vince cautions me, “if I have to replace the unit in your attic, the only way that sucker’s gonna come out is through your roof, so the repairs could end up running somewhere in the vicinity of NINE THOUSAND DOLLARS.”

I’m in a state of shock, and the coffee hasn’t even been made yet. “That’s a hell of a vicinity”, I reply. “What should I do?”

Vince’s strength is obviously not: a) customer relations, or b) pastoral care. “It’s not for me to say, but you better tell me what you want me to do. As it is, I won’t get the parts until mid-week.” There it is again, I think to myself, that mid-week thing again. I tell tell Vince I’ll call Fidelity and get back to him.

7:30 AM - “Bear, wake up - we’ve got a big problem”, I yell over the combined whir of the A/C unit and fan. Tracey is barely awake, but not for along as I tell her exactly what Vince told me. The world seems to be crashing all around us. “I’ll make coffee”, I say. “I’ll call Norwegian and cancel the Hawaiian cruise”, she replies, “at least we’ll get 5K back there. I don’t see what else we can do.”

“You’ll need to get a hotel room for you and the rabbits”, I tell her, “this’ll be no place for you or the rabbits if we’re gonna be out of commission for a week.”

8 AM - I take a shower to clear my head. I notice no difference between the shower and the air I step out into. The hot coffee is not exactly refreshing, but it steels me for my call to Fidelity. I get customer service, then am passed along to authorizations. A pleasant guy named Jeremy tells me exactly what Vince told me: that they won’t cover any repairs to correct the mismatch in equiment. But, “because you’ve been a good customer for us these past three years”, he says, “I am authorized to write you out a check for $306.10 to cover half the cost of the parts needing replacement, and should have it by next week.”

Tracey’s hearing this conversation, and starts grabbing numbers for our home insurance agent. I tell her to start looking for a lawyer, as I’m already thinking about calling our house’s original builder. Jeremy tells me that’s the best Fidelity can do, and that, unfortunately, I’m on my own as to where I take it from here.

What happens next? Stay tuned for part II of “White Hot, A/C Blue”….