AC for D.C.

Returning home the other evening to an empty house from a three-day trip, I checked the thermostat in the darkened vestibule and noticed that the temperature was a few degrees higher than the setting. My alluring wife, who is more cost-conscious than I about such things, had left the air conditioner on at a responsible setting before leaving on her own (separate) trip. The house was comfortable, if perceptibly less cool than usual; but I was intent on unpacking and surveying the tokens and souvenirs I had accumulated during a sojourn in the Hudson Valley.

David Clark

So it took awhile for the grim reality to sink in: At some calamitous instant between my wife’s departure from the homestead for New York City and my own return from Hyde Park a few days later, our air conditioner had broken down. I assumed, since the indoor atmosphere was still bearable, that death had occurred a few hours before I walked in the house. But that was the extent of my postmortem analysis: I am generally bewildered by the mechanics of heating and air conditioning, and after a few desultory attempts to stop and restart the system, came to the sad conclusion that this was an unprecedented failure, requiring professional assistance and the likely expenditure of lots of money.

I am happy to report that, while the worst was true, it was a relatively painless episode in household history. Late the following morning a cheerful mechanic arrived from the company that had installed the system 19 years ago—and certified its robust health during an annual checkup two weeks earlier!—who confirmed my diagnosis and suggested some courses of action. After learned discussion, and some quick mental arithmetic, I opted to replace the various air-conditioning components, which would include some modification of the furnace but not constitute systemwide surgery. Expensive, yes, but not catastrophic.