After 40 years as a computer programmer and game developer—and the passing of his wife of 47 years—Rick has retired and is now living in Ye Olde Folks Home, where he still tinkers with tech and likes to write these amusing and/or thoughtful tales about his storied life.

Bringing Coffee for Alice
“Turn Off the Lights!”
What to Say to the Grieving
While Waiting for the School Bus
An Unfortunate Misunderstanding
In Memoriam: Betty Lou Edwards-Vessel
A Little Knowledge is a Dangerous Thing
Who Would Jesus Stab?
The Eggshell Incident
First Chapel Service at Ye Olde Folks Home
A Yearly Ritual at Menards
“Mr. Loftus, the Town Hero”
The FCAL Project
Pepe Le Pew Finds New Lodgings
In Memoriam: Dale Lear
Bingo Bedlam at Ye Olde Folks Home
There’s a Shortage of Perfect Movies…
One Day at the DMV
A Visitor from Microsoft
“He Who Should Not Be Named”
Downton… Abbey?
This Home is a Liver-Free Zone
My 9/11 Rememberances
My Yearly Pumpkin Spice Rant
Done In By Baker’s Square
My Eulogy for Alice
“Dear Rikki…”
A Clean, Well-lighted Place for Books
Memories of my First Computer
A Little Excitement at the Staff Meeting
The Tale of Mrs. Butler
Sun, Sand, and a Margarita
“Thou Shalt Not Steal”
Troubleshooting at Ye Olde Folks Home
Stories of my Mother
I’ve Heard Angels Sing
Elevator Mishap at the Eye Clinic
One Day at Fair, Isaac
Saturday Morning Cartoons
A Sprig of Parsley
Fun With Recruitment Ads
Leave Her to Heaven
“Squirrel!”
Bring me Dave Bringle!
Beware! The Oldsters Are Coming!
Life Among the Progressives
A Family Ritual While Watching Masterpiece
The Unforgettable General Oppy
“Don’t Even THINK About Parking Here”
A Dubious Plan Gone Awry
The Singing Christmas Tree!
One Day in the Hospital Lab
The Legend of the Broken Timer
Nelson’s Fruit Stand
This One Time in Glee Club…
Star Trek References for the Win
Family Psalm, Stuck in Lodi
Vacation in Branson
Clyde and Ruth Revisited
COVID Policies During my Wife’s Fatal Illness
I Guess I’m the Shadow IT Department Now
The Tale of Clyde and Ruth
My Garden of Gethsemane Story
We Might Get a Virus!

“Turn Off the Lights!”

This morning I checked the laundry room on my wing of Ye Olde Folks Room and found it empty and not in use. Hooray!

I turned on the lights, chucked a load of laundry into the wash, and turned to go back to my apartment when I was faced with a dilemma:

Should I turn off the lights on the way out?

To those of us of the Boomer generation, that question answers itself. Our parents fervently drilled into us their ironclad rule, which we then passed on to our children, as well:

“Were you born in a barn? Turn off the lights when leaving a room!”

On the other hand, management wants us to leave them on. They believe having those lights cheerfully blazing away all day makes the place look brighter, leaving a more positive first impression on prospective residents that might be touring the premises.

“The place won’t seem too inviting when the rent goes up from leaving all those lights burning all day!” the residents grumble.

Alas, this ignores the primary reason landlords raise rents:

Because they can.

I doubt the lights being on vs. off would make that much of a difference to prospective tenants, but also I know that the fluorescent tubes in use in the laundry rooms really don’t cost that much to operate.

Our electricity ostensibly costs $0.12/kWh, but is really $0.20/kWh once various governmental entities take their cut. And the bulbs in the laundry room ceilings are only 32 watts, so let’s do some math.

Six laundry rooms in the entire building, times two lighting fixtures per room, two tubes per fixture… 12 hours a day… 31 days in a month…

Say, that’s only $58/month. That’s hardly going to break the bank.

So I shake off my Boomer sensibilities and leave the lights on as I leave, get home, set a timer for when to come back, and on my return trip—aww, you guessed it—the lights are off.

The same thing happened when I came back at the end of the dry cycle.

I live by a simple ethos: what will result in the fewest people yelling at me?

“I give up,” I mumble to myself, snapping the lights off on my way out.