Ode to Air Conditioning

As we move from our air-conditioned homes to our air-conditioned cars, offices and stores, it's easy to take cool comfort for granted.

But talk to people who have lived in this state for more that 40 years and they can tell you about living without it-and what we would do to get it.

My family's first window unit cost my father his wedding-ring finger.

It was June 1966, and he was up in the tiny attic of our '50s-era cinder-block house, pulling bigger wiring through to supply the extra juice for the new A/C.

I was outside, barefoot, hopping from one patch of grass to another to avoid the blistering hot sand, when my dad's head popped out of the small access hole in the gable. Crazed from the heat, he started yelling for a ladder. I, not quite six years old, ran off looking for someone to help him.

When a ladder didn't arrive quickly enough, Dad started climbing down anyway, hoping to slide down onto the window ledge. He slipped, and his wedding ring caught on the casement window, slowing his fall to the ground but ripping his finger beyond repair.

He came home from the hospital with nine and a third fingers to find his La-Z-Boy parked about a foot from the blasting unit, and I'm pretty sure he thought it was worth it.

My dad worked hard outside in the Florida heat all day. Coming home to that chair and a cold beer each day must have been like heaven to him, well worth an empty glove finger.

Still, when it came time to pull more wiring through the attic to upgrade to central air, he sent me up to do the job. He said it was because I was smaller. I was about 12 then and I knew better; I figured he probably thought it was time for someone else in the family to make a sacrifice to the air-conditioning gods.

It was claustrophobic. It was the hottest place I have ever been. And whatever was up there made me sneeze a lot. Crawling the length of that small house, tugging that wire behind me, seemed to take forever. But there was a ladder at the other end, with a lot of family members happy to help me down, and I came out with all my digits.

I always felt kind of proud of that attic journey. My mom still lives in that house and continues to enjoy the benefits of central air and heat made possible by my work.

Still, even I had begun to take air conditioning for granted until two years ago, when the hurricanes took out our electricity for nine days.

There's nothing like tossing all night in sweaty sheets to renew your appreciation for Willis Haviland Carrier, the guy who invented air conditioning.

Those long August and September days and nights without A/C also reawakened my appreciation for a few other things as well.

Iced tea with lemon became my drink of choice. Nothing else seemed to quench as well. I understood why those old-fashioned signs at movie theaters used to scream "AIR CONDITIONING," as my daughter and I sought refuge there during the hottest part of the days. And my seldom-used front porch became the spot for hanging out as evening fell.

Those were pleasures that air conditioning had dulled. Still, by the end of day seven without the blessed cold air, I was looking at my hands and thinking maybe I wouldn't miss a pinky all that much.

Teresa Burney is contributing editor of Orlando Homebuyer.