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Nostalgia September 2016

Living Life With Lots of Batteries

By John C. Liburdi

I also miss my old car; it had a powerful V8 that would roar through dual exhausts when I stomped on the gas pedal. I felt like King of the Road in that automobile, especially when gas station attendants swarmed the car to check its vital signs and wash the windshield. Now I’ve got a wimpy plug-in electric car that recharges at home in my garage — what a loss of virility!

Italian inventor Alessandro Volta brought batteries into our lives in the year 1800. He’d certainly be shocked to learn how batteries have permeated every aspect of contemporary life, especially the lithium versions created later by John Goodenough and Wilson Greatbatch. For me, this battery thing has been a cultural transformation that I strongly resisted at first but now willingly accept.

Those darn batteries have sort of emasculated the American male, as evidenced by that silly pink Energizer Bunny. These days, much less physical energy is needed to get things done, and everything is done more quietly. I really miss all the traditional mechanical sounds around the house. That’s all been replaced by the beeping sounds of battery-powered devices, coming at me from all directions.

All of yesteryear’s macho tools seem to have evolved into high-tech toys. To preserve my ego, I’ve kept my manly hand-crank drill even though I received a high-tech battery-powered version for my birthday. Then there’s my old gasoline powered lawnmower; the loud noise and blue smoke it emitted reassured everyone that I was working hard. Now I use a battery-powered mower to quietly and discretely mow the tiny patch of grass in front of my townhouse.

I also miss my old car; it had a powerful V8 that would roar through dual exhausts when I stomped on the gas pedal. I felt like King of the Road in that automobile, especially when gas station attendants swarmed the car to check its vital signs and wash the windshield. Now I’ve got a wimpy plug-in electric car that recharges at home in my garage — what a loss of virility! Same deal with today’s battery-powered “ride-on” toy cars for kids; how are little boys going to develop into strong lads if they don’t pedal those toy cars?

Shaving my face with a double-edge safety razor is another manual activity I miss. There was lots of blood and cursing at first, but through the years I honed my shaving skills to perfection. The battery-powered shaver I received last Christmas takes all the joy out of shaving. I also miss the mechanical sounds of my old rotary dial telephone — finger in the numbered holes to dial around, digit by digit. Plus, it sounded like a real telephone when it rang! Now I’ve got a confusing battery-powered wireless phone that stops working if I don’t get it seated just right in the charging stand.

You know, winding my old Timex once a day used to be a calming experience, and that ritual allowed me a few moments to ponder the previous 24 hours of my life. Now, I install a wafer-thin battery in my watch every few years and just carry on with my perpetually hectic life. Then there was my simple Kodak Instamatic camera that required me to manually advance the roll of film, exposure by exposure — a very gratifying action. The complicated digital camera I have now uses a small battery and takes hundreds of photos without any tending from me.

I also remember walking up to my old wood cabinet TV each time I wanted to change channels, turning the big dial one channel at a time — clunk, clunk, clunk. Now, my high-tech entertainment center requires four battery-powered remotes to operate, done while sitting in a “Lazy-Butt” recliner. Sadly, the candy dish on the nearby end table is now kept filled with replacement batteries instead of sweets.

Actually, the most exasperating thing about batteries is shopping for them. Every type of device uses a different size battery, and new models of the same device always use a different battery. Plus, if several manufacturers happen make the same size battery, each gives it their own unique model number. Back in the day, battery selection was so simple; there were only a half-dozen shapes and sizes to choose from. Admittedly, they all had a tendency to leak out their chemical guts as they expired.

Obviously, the battery-powered lifestyle leaves me with sort of an empty feeling and, as you just heard, I’ve had very negative feelings about batteries. However, my attitude toward batteries became more positive last week. That’s when a young surgeon installed my battery-powered pacemaker — a rather straightforward “bada bing, bada boom” procedure. Now my heart beats at a respectable 70 throbs per minute, and they even guarantee that it’ll take a licking and keep on ticking.

All I can say at this point is, thanks very much Mr. Volta and associates. I really enjoy living life with my new pacemaker, powered by one of your nifty batteries!

 

Liburdi’s books are available at on-line bookstores and on the Kindle Reader.

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