Hang the Energy Crisis Out to Dry

Spring is here, a time of rebirth, renewal and rolling blackouts. With big rate hikes around the corner, Californians are being urged to conserve, as Gov. Gray Davis frantically tries to solve the energy crisis.

Well, Governor, I’ve got an idea: clotheslines.

Here’s how it works. If California power customers stop using their clothes dryers and instead hang their laundry outside, we might be able to get through the hot weather without outage epidemics.

I live in the San Fernando Valley, where a typical summer day closely resembles the inside of a dryer going full blast. Clothes dryers use some 500 to 800 kilowatt hours per year. The three major utilities in California serve about 9 million customers. Let’s assume that at least half these customers use electric clothes dryers. I’m no math whiz, but if you multiply each kilowatt of electricity not used by, say, 5 million dryers that are turned off, wouldn’t we save a heap of megawatts?

Of course, not every California resident has a backyard, so, to make this plan work, we’ll have to convert city parks into laundry facilities. Clotheslines could become fixtures beside swings and slides. This would boost the economy, with vendors selling clothespins and lattes. Culturally, we can expand our horizons by offering complimentary activities. Hang your wash and learn tai chi. Enjoy poetry reading while you wait for your sheets to dry. Or how about special events, like singles’ mixers? Pin your thongs on the line and meet the man of your dreams. If we have dog parks and skateboard parks, why not laundry parks? One glitch that needs to be overcome is all those homeowner associations that ban clotheslines. I live in such a community. When we moved in, we were given a three-ring binder filled with 178 pages of regulations. Section 9.06 reads: “No outside installation of any type, including, but not limited to, clotheslines, shall be constructed, erected or maintained on any residence.”

I’m now ready to become the Erin Brockovich of my development and fight the powers that be. I am going to put up a clothesline.

I need travel no farther than my neighborhood supermarket, where 50 feet of clothesline can be obtained for $3.37. A bag of 36 hardwood clothes pins will set you back $3.50. Clothes waving in the open air trigger memories for me, because they played a key role in my childhood. My parents were raised in poor homes and worked hard to achieve their goals. I grew up in a nice house in Evanston, Ill., but my parents never forgot their humble beginnings. They were careful savers, knowing the difference between a necessity and luxury. A clothes dryer was a luxury. We had one for a while, clanging away in the basement. But drying the clothes of a family of six eventually took its toll, and one day the machine stopped mid-cycle. My mother announced we could live without it. My father was dispatched to the hardware store, and by the end of the day, a web of white clothesline crisscrossed our back yard. From then on we lugged baskets of laundry outside, even in the dead of a Chicago winter, which gave new meaning to the term “freeze-dried.” Hanging clothes outside has emotional benefits. It’s relaxing to commune with nature while putting soggy towels on the line. Dysfunctional families could have breakthroughs while airing their laundry in public.

I think this plan could work, and I’m available to help implement it. So, if you need my assistance, Gov. Davis, let me know. I’ll be in the backyard, hanging up the wash.