The Money Pit

If you’ve ever seen the Tom Hanks/Shelly Long movie, you’ll know how Kathy and I have felt this week. We decided to finally get air conditioning and a new furnace put into the house. We’ve never had AC, and the furnace was probably the original one in our 48 year old house.

One of my first duties as a new homeowner was to replace the blower motor in that furnace. (Kathy called me at work in a panic when the furnace quit working just after we had moved in). I did it twice, once with a used one a friend had sitting in his garage, and then with a new one. That was the extent of the maintenance we did on that banging, wheezing old contraption for the next 23 years. Then I had to replace the belt. It was so badly shredded, you could barely read a part number on it, and miraculously, the appliance parts place had one in stock.

Every winter we wondered if our aging hot air machine would last. We were sure that most of our utility bill money was going right up the chimney, since “energy efficiency” hadn’t been invented when this furnace had been installed.

We had the requisite three estimates done and in the end we chose the most expensive option, since they came up with the most elegant solution to running the ductwork in the basement. Everyone else wanted to take the cheap and easy way out and just run some ducts across the basement ceiling to an existing cold air return. This would have blocked a light fixture and meant that I would have to duck my head every time I went into my own basement. The company we chose was very thoughtful in their analysis and even had two people look at the problem. Finally they decided to break through a cinder block wall and put a new return up in the living room. This means cutting through our hardwood floors (ouch) to get it done. So this is now a $7,000 job.

Of course, you need an electrician to rewire the fuse box to accommodate the load of an air conditioning system. The guy who runs the electrical company is an engaging seventy year old man who thought he’d be retired by now, but he’s having too much fun to hang up his wire cutters just yet. He wears a wooden cross on a leather string around his neck, so you gotta love that. He came over to write up an estimate, and says, “You need a whole new box (of course) and you need to move the electrical meter because it’s out of code (of course), and by the way, don’t let the inspector see that illegal set up you have in the basement for that one fluorescent light.” He went on to say, “I can probably do it for under $1,000.” Before I could stop her, Kathy piped up at that point and said, “Oh, that’s fine! I said, “Kathy! Don’t say that!”

His estimate came in at $975. Of course.

All these guys needed was to say, “Whole job—two weeks”—just like the movie. Turns out to be four days. We escaped for a little bit today by going shopping and to lunch, but we returned to some horrific banging and drilling and breaking noises, shaking the whole house. We stay outside on the deck—me with my book and Kathy with her battery operated TV, since the power was off most of the day, but it’s still a little unnerving listening to all this destruction.

We’re sure it will be worth it in the end, but now we see other projects. Kathy wants a Pergo floor in the kitchen, I want power in the garage, Kathy wants those nifty levelor blinds inside the window for this huge window we have at the back of the house.

‘Tis the season for home improvements—anyone else have big plans for this summer?