| You’d
think that my home was in the perfect location--from my bedroom
window on the second floor, I have a lovely unobstructed view
of downtown Austin and the comfortable green suburbs of its
southwest quadrant. I can stay at home and watch the city’s
fireworks from this window on the Fourth of July without having
to sweat like a pig or battle traffic. And even though it
does get really hot here in the summertime (so far this year,
only 10 days over 100 degrees--woo hoo!), there’s usually
some sort of breeze up by my place to help take the edge off
of the summer heat. When my neighbors down the hill complain
of water in their garages after a heavy rain, I can smile
and know that my garage is bone dry. Nya nya
nya. Ah yes, it’s just great living on the top
of a hill.
Most of the time.
And lo, it came to be that the summer storm season arrived
in Texas. And God did see the perfection of the neighborhood.
And He snickered, and said unto Himself: “Oh, this is
gonna be good…”
Everyone’s heard the saying that “lightning doesn’t
strike in the same place twice.” Until last month, I
didn’t know anyone who had actually tested that theory.
Then, unwittingly, I did. In July, lightning struck my lovely
little hill not once, but--you guessed it--twice. Technically
it wasn’t exactly in the same place each time--the
first time, my unit was struck on my northeast neighbor’s
side; the second time, the bolt hit our generator box, which
sits outside my southwest neighbor’s unit. Still…
50 feet is close enough, in my opinion.
Statistically, I should probably be proud--flattered, even--that
the electrical phenom liked my place so much that, despite
its normal behavior, it decided to come back for a second
visit. But somehow, I’m lacking enthusiasm for a houseguest
that manages to destroy your electronics after a mere split-second
visit. (In this category, lightning makes an out-of-control
toddler look like Emily Post.) I mean, Lightning is
a very exciting guy and all, but two visits in a span of a
week and I’ve had my does of excitement for a while.
So I’m actually considering installing a lightning rod,
like the kind you see on the tops of steeples (though I don’t
know if that kind of hardware is even available to me, since
I don’t go to church these days…). (Maybe
I should take that as a hint and consider going to church
these days.) A lightning rod might be expensive, but
it sure could come in handy if the unwelcome visitor ever
drops by again. (“Well, hello!” I’d
say, “How unexpected! Welcome--luckily we have your
tightly contained metal accommodations all ready for you this
time…”)
In the meantime, though, we’ve taken a proactive approach
to protect our condo by other, less complicated means: mainly
through surge protectors. Seriously, have you shopped
for surge protectors recently?? The guarantees on these
things amaze me: they promise to deliver feats of protection
that would rival the Fantastic Four. After the second
strike, my boyfriend went nuts in the “Surge Protectors”
aisle at Home Depot and came home with apparatuses to fortify
everything from the toaster oven to the (now-replaced) garage
door opener. Even without a lightning rod, I can rest
assured that “harmful electrical imbalances” will
now be contained.
So I guess now, with all of these amazing new products from
the “power protection industry” surrounding me,
I should feel safe. Instead of worrying about my electronics
being turned into really expensive paperweights, or my home
being reduced to cinders, maybe I can go back to my second
floor window and my daydream of living in the perfect location…
(...until the neighbors’ dogs start to howl…) |
