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February 2, 2001

When Mel opened our last electric bill, I thought I was going to have to
call 9-1-1 to get him breathing on his own again. But once he began sucking air, he started howling and hasn't stopped since.

"We git anuther dun like 'is last 'un, an'we're gonna start pickin' up firewood on the weekends an' commence to burnin' candles," my husband announced. "This is highway robbery! Plumb ridiculous!"

"That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Dire times call fer dire measures," he replied.

I suggested that "dire" was a bit of an exaggeration.

"This last month's bill was double the month before. An' this un's over 30 percent more agin. `Dire's' mighty fittin' if you ask me," Mel grunted.

I reminded my husband that we were experiencing the third coldest winter on record. "We ran our heat quite a bit during the holidays," I noted.

"I ain't buyin' that," he said. "Why, most days I keep it so cold in here
you could hang meat. An' I make shore the thermostats are set on 55 at night. I'm awful partic'lar 'bout that."

"Did it ever occur to you that running that electric heater in your
greenhouse around the clock for three days and nights when it was down in the 20s might be the reason the bill is so high? Any more weather like we've had, and it would probably be cheaper to buy all new plants. It's amazing how you blow all your conservation efforts over a few silly flowers," I said.

Boy, did that cork his pistol.

"For yore information, it don't take much juice a'tall to run 'at li'l ol'
bitty heater...an' ain't you a good one to tawk. You use five hunnerd gallons of hot water a day. First thang of a mornin', you got yore coffee pot perkin', the microwave hummin', yore computer cranked up to check email messages, both TVs a goin', an' sometimes the arn an' the dryer runnin' downstairs. Upstairs, you got yore 'lectric blanket, makeup mirror, blow dryer, curlin' arn, hot curlers, an' coffee cup warmer plugged in an' yore lecturin' me on bein' energy efficient? If ever'body in California's got a high-watt wife like mine, it's no wonder their brown and out in Beverly Hills!"

Wasn't much I could say in my defense.

"This thang's got all outta hand," Mel continued. "They gotta come up with better sources for generatin' 'lectricity. Might eben pay to git one nem wind-powered thangamajigs..."

"Or since we've got so many squirrels, you might go back to the old squirrel-in-the-cage type generators," I said, smirking. "But you'd have to have a hundred of them to supply my electrical needs."

"I got it!" Mel yelped, eyes glowing. "I could open a chain o' fitness centers an' fix it whur people walk on treadmills an' ride stationary bikes that generate 'lectricity. I could charge 'em a membership fee an' turn around an' sell the power..."

"What would happen to your business if they ever found out?"

Mel shrugged. "Guess I'd have to pull the plug on it."