The Old Coot is fixated on
batteries.
By Merlin Lessler
I got to thinking how simple
life was before I caught the “Battery Worry Virus.” The only battery I was
concerned about back then, was the one in my car. I rarely gave it a thought,
except years ago when I first started into adulthood when the battery in my fifth
hand, 1953 Ford convertible was an issue. I paid $60 for the car at an auction
in the college cafeteria. I got it for the bargain basement price because it
had was buried under a mountain of snow in a parking lot. The battery, once it
was fully charged, turned out to be weak, incapable of starting my car when overnight
temperatures dropped down into the teens. I solved that problem by bringing it
into my apartment on cold nights and putting it on the heat register. The car
had other afflictions as well: no heater, no keys (I had to hot wire it to get
it running), the motor to raise and lower the top was defunct and the front
fenders had more fiber glass compound in them than steel. But I loved that blue
beauty.
A car battery was the only
battery I thought about most of my life. But, not anymore! My life has become
inundated with battery worries. Just about everything I depend on is battery
powered. I can’t even get in my car without the battery in my remote entry fob
working properly. I have to plan my day around my cell phone battery. I’m at
the mercy of battery operated devices: an I-Pad tablet, a computer, ear buds,
electric razor, screw driver, drill, lawn mower, leaf blower, tooth brush,
garbage can lid opener and even a dish detergent dispenser. Even my human
powered bicycle is dependent on the batteries in my blinking safety lights.
More and more appliances have
become battery dependent. I can’t even turn on our ceiling fan without a
battery powered remote. Now, “they” are trying to force me into a battery
powered electric car that severely limits my driving range. I think my head
will explode when that happens.
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