Blame it on Perseid

I'm a bad neighbor. I freely admit it, and I don't apologize for it. There it is.

This is the gorgeous new view from my darkroom/pseudostudio window. Notice the trees in silhouette. Notice the deep, rich color of the sky. Notice the gigantic light on the pole that is no longer shining.

Yeah, that last one there? That's my fault.

The people who lived in our house before we lived in our house had a lawn jockey in their backyard and it was stolen one night. (I know...a lawn jockey...that's a whole other post, people. I'm just tryin' to stay on topic.) It was recovered, because the idiot boys who stole it dragged it through the fresh snow to get it home and it doesn't take the cast of CSI to track something like that down. It doesn't even take one of 'em. Okay, maybe one. Someone's gotta follow the trail. Anyhoo, because their lawn jockey was stolen and there was some other general mischief going on in the 'hood around that time, the Browns had Ameren come out and install, basically, the sun in their backyard. Which we inherited when we bought the house.

We also inherited the $7.60/month charge that comes with having the sun in one's backyard.

It's been rather annoying as it's really, really bright (suns tend to be that way) and then it started annoying me even more after we had Zozer and it shone right in her back window. Grrr. We've debated canceling the thing but decided it would be unneighborly and so just sorta put up with it.

But last week was the Perseid meteor showers, and we sat outside for 30 minutes waiting to see one and waiting for our eyes to adjust to the darkness. Only there wasn't any darkness, because of, you know, the sun. We gave up and came inside, meteorless and pissed at the light all over again.

That's when I said, "Screw the neighbors." (No offense, Mom and Dad. I love you!)

I took our electric bill to work so I'd have the account number, and it sat on my desk for a few hours while I debated whether to ax it. Should I check with the neighbors, see what they think? I don't really want to get in the habit of collecting $7.60/4 every month to split the cost, as I'd still be paying something for a light I don't want. Still, I have to live next to all these people and I really don't want them hating me. And, silver lining, it's saved me the trouble of having a nightlight in Zoe's room. I debated all this in my head, naturally, so my officemates didn't think (okay, confirm) that I'm a total crackpot.

Then I thought, "What would M do?" Because M's a pretty smart guy. Well, one of the first things M does when solving a problem is open a new Excel spreadsheet. Excel is this man's version of duct tape. Excel can fix just about any problem known to man, and probably a few we haven't discovered yet. Give the boy a laptop, Excel, and enough time, and he could rule the world. Or at least organize it really, really well.

So I opened the spreadsheet and stared at a bunch of blank boxes. Well, I suppose I should calculate something. So I calculated $7.60 x 12 months per year x 8 years (we've been here about that long).

I wanted to hurl. We've spent roughly $730 on this f'ing light that I hate. Decision made. I called Ameren, and they stopped billing us for it immediately and said someone would be out to disconnect probably within a week.

The nice Ameren man showed up today and, with a gigantically long telescoping pole, quickly and easily removed the light bulb from the sun. "So, like, really? That's it?" "Yep. That's it." Sweet. I couldn't wait for night.

As I've sat here typing this, it's grown darker and darker. It's pitch black out there. I can see a few porch lights on here and there, but it's blissfully, sweetly, inkily black. I love it. I can't wait for the next meteor shower or comet or space station sighting. I'm hoping against hope that none of my neighbors calls Ameren this week and takes on the $7.60 monthly payment themselves.

'Cause if they do, now that I've had a taste of night, you just might find me out there throwing rocks at the sun.