Redi Kilowatt Returns to Shed Some Light on California’s Crisis
In an exclusive interview, Redi Kilowatt, the 76-year-old former electricity industry mascot, talks to columnist Patt Morrison about why he is coming out of retirement and moving to California, where he thinks his message will catch on.
PM: Good to see you again, Mr. K. We haven’t met since my father warned me you’d jump out of the socket and zap me if I didn’t start turning off some damn lights around here.
RK: I remember your dad. Unscrewed the lightbulb in the refrigerator, said you kids shouldn’t be snacking after dark anyway.
PM: That’s the guy. Well, you look to be in fine shape--lightning-bolt limbs very limber--but as I recall, your lightbulb nose used to be a 100-watt incandescent. Now I see you’ve gone to a compact fluorescent.
RK: That’s right, these new energy-efficient bulbs give you as much illumination with a fraction of the juice. I could even manage with a 40-watt, but I can’t afford a misstep at my age.
PM: Redi--may I call you Redi?--you’ve been retired in Minneapolis, making personal appearances and celebrity endorsements and judging science fairs. Why are you coming out of retirement?
RK: For those who don’t remember, people called me the Smokey Bear of Electricity. Actually Smokey was the Redi Kilowatt of the forest. I was already crackling when Smokey was just a cub.
Anyway, I had a mid-current conversion. I saw the light. I got dumped 25 years ago, during that fuel crisis, because I was the Donald Trump of energy. I was the mascot for conspicuous consumption.
Boy, I was wrong. I should’ve been ahead of the curve. Energy-saving appliances, dimmers, higher fuel economy--that was the way to go. Still is. Now I’m a believer. I am the poster boy for energy-saving.
PM: And why come to California?
RK: California’s the place. You guys get it. Sure, right now what you’re getting is ripped off, but you gave energy-saving a good shot. You had windmills before anyone but Don Quixote. Nobody knows this, but Jerry Brown and I used to double-date. He and I came up with his solar energy plan while we were all nude sunbathing up at Nepenthe.
PM: And what about politicians now?
RK: They’re all afraid of coming off like Jimmy Carter in that wussy-sweater speech about sacrifice. Gray Davis asks California to conserve, sort of, but then he goes on a tear about the Texas electric gougers because he doesn’t want anyone to blame him when the rolling blackouts hit the movie theaters in the middle of “Shrek” and the kids start screaming and throwing gummy bears.
That White House spokesman says, “The American way of life is a blessed one.” Divine benediction on SUVs and deep-freezes? Hello? That miracle was the loaves and fishes, not the loaves and kilowatts.
Vice President Cheney says, “Conservation may be a sign of personal virtue, but it is not a sufficient basis for a sound, comprehensive energy policy.” He’s got a problem with personal virtue on a national scale? Or just in the Oval Office? I’m a member of the “greatest generation.” If we can go to war to save the world, you all can turn up the thermostat to 78 in the summer. Turn off the Nintendos and get the kids off their flabby duffs and outside moving around.
PM: So what would you do?
RK: Make like it’s the Olympics, year-round. It worked in L.A. in 1984. Split schedules. Off-peak hours. The L.A. County Board of Supervisors just voted to go on a four-day, 40-hour week to save energy. Require every new house to go solar.
Hook up the treadmills in those chi-chi exercise clubs to generators. It tickles me to think of somebody like Renee Zellweger sweating away, making the juice to run the computer for some kid doing his homework at the Puente Learning Center who’s never even heard of Renee Zellweger.
PM: Where do you go from here?
RK: My old reindeer friend Rudolph has asked me up to do an energy assessment of Santa’s place. Rudy’s switching to a fluorescent nose-bulb like me.
PM: Aren’t you just talking like an old crank, going on about the good old days?
RK: How good does “cold and dark” sound? Your dad was right. Turn off some damn lights.
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Patt Morrison’s column appears Wednesdays. Her e-mail address is patt.morrison@latimes.com.
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