The new boy on the block, seen with the remains of the vanquished.
By A. Daniel Bodine
EL PASO, TX—Summer heat in the high desert is usually dry, which makes it more tolerable than the humid heat, say, in the Dallas-Fort Worth area or, especially, in Houston down on the Gulf coast. That's important to me; a yard freak, I am. Sweat easily, I do. We're talking 6-7 percent humidity here. Usually. That's dry. Even though the summer day temperatures in the desert are hot.
Now there are some fudge factors in different environments whose values vary with people. I not only have COPD (bad respiratory system, which loves the dry humidity of the desert), but also a very oily complexion (which is especially appreciative of it, too).
People with oily skin can tell personal stories about what feels like their skin crawling--on their faces, their arms and necks, in high humidity—unseen but feelable dirt and grime build-up's; crawlin' up and down their skin every time they move their body, it seems. Compounded when there's high wind to add to those layers, of course. When outside.
Freaks of nature, you say? Come off it! Not in the norm we are, definitely; freaks is a tad harsh though, no? You a hillbilly? Just put it this way: You'd better believe dry air is important to us!
Now, triple or quadruple that normal humidity index--with the same heat, which is what we had most of June this year (an hellacious month!)--and the misery index soars. Especially if you're living under a swamp cooler in your house. Which we were. Evaporative air-conditioners lower the temperatures by adding water to the air. Increasing humidity.
Which is why my wife, Noemi, finally broke down last week and agreed for us to purchase a refrigerated air-conditioning system. Technology has improved our standard of living, it has. Hallelujah! I said. Freed at last! And that makes for a story, of course. Of two air-conditioners.
If you're a gringo from the low country marrying a Latina from the mountainous Chihuahuan Desert-- who's lived most of her life without air-conditioning at night--you're in for a little bit of a challenge, pardnuh. Hummh!
And Noemi will go that one one more. Can't stand much cover, but, too, she gets the awfullest cramps in her legs at night--whenever cool air passes over them for any length of time. We've had to actually get up many times at 2 or 3 a.m. and walk her around inside the house; massage her calves and thighs; just to get rid of the pain.
Talk about a 'twix and a 'tween! I need the cooler air circulating over me to breath easier. But if it gets past a certain point—especially if the air circulating has increased humidity in it—then it creates a bad situation for her. A simple ceiling fan on low is OK usually; at night, humidity and temperature both drop quickly in the desert, which is what makes living in it more pleasant.
When Noemi and I married, early '95, we'd already looked at our situations, and had made some adjustments. Most of 'em were made in my head. Like understanding why it was wise to get rid of the refrigerated air in my home. Besides causing her cramps, that type of cooling was very inefficient then also—it was expensive, the electricity.
I not only was running a system through overhead ducts but I had several compressed-air, window coolers scattered in the house also. I was on a mission--slay the damn heat! Electricity bills over $200 a month were defense expenditures.
There's a better way, she said softly. And for the better part of 16 years (with minor exceptions) we've gotten by mostly with just a window evaporative system, that's cut off at night and replaced with ceiling fans for circulation. Ah...Then came last month. One of the worst ever, some noted here.
The little rent house we'd purchased in '07, and moved into last June, had an evaporative cooler mounted on the roof with ducts to the different rooms. Pretty standard for El Paso. And even though it was in poor condition already, it got us through that first year.
In April I replaced the pads and water pump, and told Noemi just how bad its rotted condition was. We're going to have to buy a new unit, I said. Maybe we can get by for another year, she said. Which is where we left it. For a few weeks, anyway. Until June. And its strange combination of heat and humidity.
I can't take it anymore, I said just before the final week. We've got to purchase a new unit!
Why don't we look at buying a refrigerated system? she said.
And that caught me off balance. I said nothing. At first. Afraid I'd heard wrong. Then: That sounds like a good idea.
She'd seen a special advertised at a nearby building materials center, she had. It can reduce the humidity in the air, it said. Holy smolies, what's this world coming to?
I contacted them on a Thursday morning. Joe came over that afternoon to explain the system. Nice, it was. Really nice. I wanted it. He said nothing about reducing humidity though. (Has echnology increased that much in recent years? And we were in the dark on it?) We didn't ask.
I wanted “to sleep on it” first before deciding, I told him finally. Ok, I'll call you in the morning, Joe said. No, I answered. I'm taking Noemi to the doctor tomorrow morning. She's been having a lot of stomach cramps. I'll call you tomorrow afternoon, I assured him.
When we returned just after noon from the doctor Friday, we finally had a chance to read that day's El Paso Times. We'd laid it on the table before leaving. Noemi is a hawk on reading newspaper ads.
Here's a better deal, she said. Let's call them. She did. James would be out first thing Monday morning, a woman told her. That was good.
I need to call Joe, I then said. I promised I'd call.
Wait! she said. That's not how you do it! Wait until we see this other system!
(So, yeah, a little bit slow of the ways of the world, I am. But like I said, Noemi knows how to adjust a thick head.)
But No le asi, it turned out. Joe's office called at 5 p.m. anyway. He said you'd be contacting us this afternoon about an air-conditioning system, the woman said. Do you still plan on it? We're open until 6.
Oh, I'm sorry, I told her. Long day in the doctor's office. Tell him I'll probably come in Monday or Tuesday. If we don't change our mind. Ok, she said.
Now, have you checked out the efficiency ratings on some of these refrigerated air-conditioning systems that are out these days, huh? They're good, pardnuh. They're really good.
Monday morning James laid one of the slickest presentations you ever heard on us. Not forced air coming out of the ducts, first of all.
“Not the kind that blows strong on you,” he said, "but a soft, gentle stream."
And $2,500 less than the previous carrier, we'd quickly figured. Yes, Noemi was leaning, I could see it.
Then he fired two magic bullets. Noemi caught both of 'em right in the heart. “And it'll lower the humidity for you,” he said. “You don't have to worry about high humidity.”
And unless you're charging a space rocket battery or something every night in your garage, "your electricity bill each month won't run but about $30 more on average," he added.
Noemi's eyes were sparkling. She looked at me quickly, and the biggest damn smile spread over her face. Those magic words. Like being welcomed into a new, inclusive religious community. I'd heard enough.
We'll take it! I told James.
His crew installed it Thursday. That night Noemi and I both had the best night of sleep we've had in at least two months. Go figure.
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