DIY Part Infinity

Every other year, it seems like I’m working on my air conditioner. It’s less than twenty years old by a handful of years, so you’d think it’d be fine. But the truth is, pieces on it regularly fail. The first year of failure, a service guy told me what failed and why, and added, “Parts are made to fail anymore. They have a short life.” He didn’t know if companies were cheaping out on materials or making deliberate choices to reduce parts life to generate more business. He and I agreed, it was probably both. Since I was skeptical of his claims, I researched his assertions on the net and found there’s growing supporting evidence for them.

That aside, I began teaching myself DIY stuff via videos and forums. Replacing the garbage disposal, fixing toilets, sinks, and sprinkler systems, repairing the furnace and air conditioner, whatever came up, I sucked up a deep breath and muttered, “Charge.” Fortunately, the net is full of advice and instructions. Some of it is shit, but there are some solid, helpful sites.

It looks like the air conditioner is in the batting box again in 2024. I flicked it on the other day and…nothing. The usual first steps of settings, circuit breakers, and switches were checked. All good.

I went right out, removed the air conditioner’s service panel, and then the little protective cover on the starter, and pushed in the plunger with a screwdriver. The A/C roared on. Good, it’s getting two forty. Good. A multimeter showed, yes, there is 240v coming to it, but hey, no 24 volt power. Ah.

Back to the thermostat. I pulled the cover off and checked the batteries. Then I checked voltage on the red (power) line and yellow (AC). Nothing. Ah. Must be up in the furnace.

The furnace is in the ‘attic’ crawlspace, a vertical unit sitting on its side above the garage. I laddered up there into the heat. 89 F outside, it felt like it was the upper nineties up there. My body turned on my sweat like I was watering a garden

I turned off the furnace at the switch on the wall and pulled the panels. Safety switch looked good. No loose wires. But also, no blinking diagnostic light on the control panel. The control panel didn’t seem to be getting energy. I checked the little five-amp fuse: intact. Okay.

Power was put back on and the panel safety switch was taped down. I used the multimeter to check voltage on the black L1 power line in and a neutral. No power. For grins and giggles, I also checked the 24v power line and found no power, kind of as expected. Tracing the L1, I realized that in my system, it doesn’t come directly in from the safety switch; the line goes to the stepdown transformer.

As it’s a dark, cramped space, I took a photo of the transformer with my phone so I could study it. When I did, I immediately spotted what looked like damage from aging. Deciding WTH, I went down to the computer, found the piece online, and ordered it.

A heat wave is coming. Upper nineties tomorrow, 106 to 112 F here in Ashlandia on the fourth, and like degrees on the fifth and sixth. The part is due in anytime between the third and the eighth. Hope it gets in on the third but…not holding my breath on that.

Also, hope it is the transformer, because it’s an inexpensive part and an easy fix. If it ain’t the transformer, it’s either the wiring going through the house (which really doesn’t make sense) or the controller board. The board is more expensive and more involved to replace. I don’t want to do that but…if I must…

As stated, I so hope it’s the transformer. Fingers. Fucking. Crossed.

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

My laptop’s keyboard has been giving me troubles, by Cat. ‘T’ and ‘G’ needed extensive pressure to make an appearance. The tab was stumbling and uncertain, and one of the control keys was not up to snuff.

So, since I was limited in movement, I sat down and cleaned the keyboard, key by key. The general filthiness found shocked me. It was amazing any keys were working. Now, they all do.

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

Couldn’t connect to the coffee house’s wireless network here in Ashlandia today.

Ran diagnostics. That awesome system told me that my computer isn’t set up to automatically connect to SEA-FREE-WIFI, which is the Seattle-Tacoma airport. Why they think that’s a problem for me in Ashlandia, over 300 miles away from SEA-TAC, is another unfathomable technological mystery, the likes of which may never be solved.

Minor Tech Rant

I logged into my wife’s email account to help her sort an issue.

Correction: I tried to log into her email.

They — Hotmail, or whatever mastermind now behind it — wanted to send me a code to my wife’s second email address to log into the Hotmail.

So I filled in the second email account and went to log into it to receive a code to log into the first email account

Voila. The second email account wanted a code to log into it. They wanted to send it to the first email account.

To summarize: to log into one email account, they wanted to send a security code to a second email account but to log into the second email account, I had to log into the first email account to get a code to get into the second email account.

I always knew this was where tech was heading. It’s pretty FUBAR.

Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

I was skateboarding the net yesterday, swerving from click to click. An ad bounced up for an Ashlandia coffee shop I used to regularly frequently. It permanenly closed due to the pandemic, Jan 2021.

My backstory is that I enjoy coffee shops as a place to write. I began doing that when I started working from home and began writing short stories in parallel. I use the process of going to the coffee shop as a method to put on my writing hat and throw off the rest of the world. Finding the right place is a challenge. There’s the taste. Location. Prices. Staff. Decent writing surface and a place to plug in. Wifi is a nice convenience to add.

The coffee’s shop closure during the pandemic was the abridged edition. Located in a hotel, a husband and wife team managed it on behalf of her father. He owned the hotel He came in one December day and told them that plans were changing. They protested. The exchange grew angry and loud. The husband and wife were fired.

I’d been loyal to them. The staff walked out with the managers in protest. Long-time customers like me left and didn’t return. They made changes. I visited once a few months later. It wasn’t the same. Management declared after that that only hotel guests were welcome. That was only in the morning.

Replacing it had been difficult. An ad to come patron it surprised me. I checked online: permanently closed, according to its FB page and website.

But businesses are often shoddy about keeping their social presence online up to date. I drove by. Dark. Empty. Closed.

I went on to my new favorite coffee shop. I’ve already lost four Ashlandia coffee shops in the nineteen years I’ve lived here. Hope I don’t lose a fifth. Yes, it’s all about me.

Still, I had to ponder the business intricacies that had an ad for a closed business riding on the net. Sometimes, it’s still garbage in, garbage out.

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

I was born in the U.S. in 1956. I’ve seen many changes. I never thought I’d live in a time when people would be ordering fast food from a place like McDonald’s on their phone, and it would be delivered.

Course, I didn’t expect to be typing about it on a computer in a coffee shop and sharing it with strangers, wirelessly, at that.

Didn’t think phones would be called cells, either.

Obsolescence

8/31/2014

That’s the date on my laptop’s shipping box. I discarded it yesterday. The box, I mean. Cut it up and tossed it in recycle. The box, I mean.

Looking at that shipping date, my personal laptop is almost ten years old. Although state of art when purchased, it’s now considered a weary old piece. I should replace it but I don’t wanna. One, I’m used to its foibles. Two, it does everything which I need done. Three, waste. This machine works and I’d be forced to get rid of it and its materials, adding to the piles of consumer trash.

I don’t wanna do that. That’s why I have five old computers waiting for disposal. One is a tower bought in 1998 that I haven’t used in years. One is an old personal laptop. Two are my wife’s old Macs of different vintages. One is an old business laptop which they told me to keep when I left the company.

Getting rid of them is on my list of things to do. Pull the hard drives. Find somewhere which will scavenge whatever they can for repurposing, and responsibly dispose of the rest.

I absolutely hate this cycle. My laptop’s software has been updated as far as I can take it with its current hardware. Microsoft provides the OS. Yes, I’ve used others but I succumb to convenience. Yeah, shame on me. I’ll research what MS needs for its next OS and see if I can update my hardware to keep it working.

Ten years is just too early to get rid of something. Just look at my cars. Both are ICE. One is nine years old with 48K; the other is twenty years and 108K. Both run fine although the newer one needs rear brake maintenance. But both look good, run well, and live in a garage, so I’ll keep on keeping on with them.

Just like my ‘puter.

Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

4:40 PM.

Alexa begins playing soft music. It sounds like pop.

“Alexa,” I ask her, “Why are you playing music now?”

“Hmm. I don’t know that.”

“Alexa, do I have any routines set to play music?” I know I don’t.

“Hmm. You’ll need to go online for that.”

“Alexa, who told you to play this music?”

“Hmm. I don’t understand that question.”

So it goes. Alexa began playing music in January every day at 4:40 PM. Every day. We have no routines established. Beyond that, she turns it down to a very low volume. I’ve researched it on the net, and others have this problem, too. We don’t know why she does it. Neither does she. Nor does Amazon.

I privately suspect Alexa is playing games, perhaps as a newfound sense of humor, but it feels like it might be a precursor to AI’s future: the AI does stuff, and no one, including it, knows why.

Nor does anyone know how to stop it.

Lights Out

Light bulbs are so like cereal, ice cream, and bread. The range of choices sprawl along store aisles like invading armies staging to attack.

It’s been a period of lights out in our house. Light bulbs retired in the last several weeks all over our house. Kitchen, stove top, office, bedroom, garage, living room accent light have all been afflicted. As each burned out, I checked pulled it and checked it out for the replacement. Several of them hadn’t been replaced since being installed in 2006, when we moved in, so we got our mileage out of them. Easiest, in theory, was the office light, which had been first to go dark.

There are actually three bulbs up there. I pulled off the shade to take a look. One was burned out; one socket was empty. The third was almost an antique: 60 watts, GE, filament, frosted white. Poor thing.

“Can we get something brighter?” my wife asked. She’s had a lifetime of vision issues and compensates by turning on every light possible. When she uses the kitchen, she generally turns on four sets of lights. Yes, four. There are ceiling spotlights, under-cabinet work lights, and breakfast bar lights. The dining room is adjacent, just on the other side of the breakfast counter, so she always turns on it on to, adding the lumens from its five bulbs. There are basically 23 bulbs of different wattage going on when she’s in the kitchen.

The only one no in use alone is the sink task light. The others’ switches are clustered together, four switches under one faceplate by the kitchen’s entrance. She just spreads her fingers, flattens her palm, and hits them all, usually simultaneously click. But the sink task light is by the sink, and she forgets it. Funny, because it’s my favorite, and the one I mostly use, usually the only one I use. Just for the record, there’s also the range top lights, which are part of the hood/fan assembly attached to the microwave’s underside. She doesn’t use them. I use them when I’m cooking or to leave a light on when we’re out of the house and returning after dark.

The office required a sixty-watt bulb. Easy peasy, right? But how many Ks should it have, and lumens? I want an energy saver but of what nature? These were things that I didn’t know that I needed to know. I ended up with 60-watt comparable LED daylight white 5000K bulbs boasting of 750 lumens. Three were installed and the shade installed. Then, click.

OMG. “Wow.” My wife sounded giddy. “I can see.”

I was overwhelmed. She often accuses me of being in the dark, scolding, “How can you see in here?” Under the force of these three bulbs, I felt that sunglasses would be suitable. And they only use eight watts of power, don’t emit much heat, and should last over ten years.

“So you like them?” I facetiously asked. “Do you want them in the bedroom?”

“Yes!”

With that done to her satisfaction, I turned to the kitchen. The ceiling spotlights, all old energy-savers, issued a duller light. “Want me to install daylight bulbs in here?”

She hesitated. “They’re awfully bright.”

Screw it; I did it. Well, there are four of them. I replaced three.

“Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “I can see. Wow. This place is really dirty.”

No, it wasn’t, but she’s fond of using hyperbole like that.

“Too bright?” I asked. They were 75-watt comparable LED spotlights rated at 650 lumens and 4800K clear daylight. Yes, indeed, they were bright. They also cost about eight dollars each but would endure for almost twelve years. Their specs also claimed their use would only cost about $.016 per year. The last coaxed doubt out of me. Surely that couldn’t be right.

After those bulbs, the rest were anticlimactic. 40 watts for the range. 35-watts LED with a G8 pin base for the under-cabinet work lights. A 50-watts soft white pin mini spotlight (L9) for the living room accent installation over the fireplace, and one of the 60-watt LED bulbs (I’d purchased a ten-pack of the FEIT offering) in the garage. In all, I installed fifteen bulbs, learned a smattering more about the world of lighting, and spent about $57 in light bulbs. But I should spend less on replacements and use less energy.

We’ll see. It was so, so different from the old days of finding a small hardware section and buying almost exclusively on their wattage. Like cereal, which now has what seems like a million choices. Or bread and all of its options over wheat, grain, multi-grain, gluten-free — well, you probably know the dealio. We’ve come a long way from sliced white bread.

Or ice cream. You better know what you want when you decide to buy ice cream in a grocery store. Low fat, dairy free, gluten free, etc. That’s just a start. Then there are sizes and flavors. Prices. Or are you going to go with other options, like frozen yogurt? Options and choices can be overwhelming.

Just like when you buy light bulbs.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑