Pulling The Plug On People Power
Published: Tuesday | July 3, 2012 3 Comments
By Robert Lalah
The light flickered, then everything went dark. Drat! Another power cut. It was the third time in three days last week that I found myself sitting in pitch-black misery wondering what act of indiscretion I committed in a past life to be subjected so frequently to this level of exasperation.
Now the thoughts that run through a man's mind in the first few seconds after a power cut are far too uncivilised to be expressed here. Needless to say, I was not amused. Call me a prude, but sitting in the unsteady light of a shrinking candle listening to mosquitoes debate which of my limbs next to attack is not my idea of a good time.
I should be accustomed to it by now, though. It's becoming almost a nightly ritual. And I fear it will get worse as the summer months progress. For whether it's higher bills or more frequent outages, summer and electricity in this country don't work well together.
JPS released a notice expressing regret and explaining that the outages were "load-shedding" exercises, done to ease the pressure on its system.
Well, good for the system.
Pressure of whatever kind is a terrible thing and it's just dandy that such consideration could be afforded to the nuts and bolts of JPS's operation. You put too much pressure on almost anything after all, and it breaks. Hopefully, the company's customers aren't under any pressure.
OPAQUE EXPLANATIONS
I suppose the most irritating power outages are those planned ahead of time, especially when they're not for maintenance purposes. You just think (perhaps unfairly) that there has to be a better option. If a wayward 18-wheeler rams into a utility pole and the lights go out, well that's understandable. You can't plan for that. But cryptic messages about "generating capacity" and "reserve margin" mean little to the fellow who mistakenly put three teaspoons of salt in his coffee because, in the dark, the salt and sugar looked exactly the same. I do not know this individual personally.
I'm sure there is complicated technical talk about watts, grids and so forth that can explain the need for load-shedding. But the truth is, I shouldn't have to care about that. As a paying customer, I don't have to know how you do what you do. All I have to care about is that I get what I pay for. And for the money Jamaican energy consumers are forced to pay, we should be getting the best electricity supply imaginable. Load-shedding is a vexing term. Even though we're used to it by now, it hasn't lost any of its sting over the years. We know all about the misery it can signify, even though people in other countries might well mistake it for something else entirely.
"Mildred looks splendid in her new skinny jeans ever since her recent load-shedding."
Silly people.
We've come a far way in many ways. We have six-lane highways, cars that give directions if you ask nicely, our cellphones all but make the bed, yet our power supply is still iffy. Watching the news on TV, you might get the impression that only in war-ravaged places like Iraq and Afghanistan is electricity supply rationed. Apparently not.
When will it end?
We don't know if this latest series of load-shedding exercises is actually over (it doesn't seem like JPS knows either), so we might as well make the best of it. Why should we be so cynical, anyway? Remember, it's Jamaica 50, so maybe this is a good time to bring back the feeling of old-time Jamaica. You know, when kerosene lamps were all the rage and evenings were spent with neighbours under a breadfruit tree sharing duppy stories.
The only trouble is, things have changed so much that gathering in the dark outside to tell stories these days presents a rather real risk to life, limb and property. The most frightful creatures today aren't the ghost and goblins of stories shared under moonlight. The hoodlums and hooligans who roam the streets at night-time are far more terrifying.
The best way to celebrate Jamaica 50 might be for us to finally come up with a solution to our energy woes. That way, when our children and grandchildren gather to celebrate Jamaica 100, they won't have to do so under threat of load-shedding
Published: Tuesday | July 3, 2012 3 Comments
By Robert Lalah
The light flickered, then everything went dark. Drat! Another power cut. It was the third time in three days last week that I found myself sitting in pitch-black misery wondering what act of indiscretion I committed in a past life to be subjected so frequently to this level of exasperation.
Now the thoughts that run through a man's mind in the first few seconds after a power cut are far too uncivilised to be expressed here. Needless to say, I was not amused. Call me a prude, but sitting in the unsteady light of a shrinking candle listening to mosquitoes debate which of my limbs next to attack is not my idea of a good time.
I should be accustomed to it by now, though. It's becoming almost a nightly ritual. And I fear it will get worse as the summer months progress. For whether it's higher bills or more frequent outages, summer and electricity in this country don't work well together.
JPS released a notice expressing regret and explaining that the outages were "load-shedding" exercises, done to ease the pressure on its system.
Well, good for the system.
Pressure of whatever kind is a terrible thing and it's just dandy that such consideration could be afforded to the nuts and bolts of JPS's operation. You put too much pressure on almost anything after all, and it breaks. Hopefully, the company's customers aren't under any pressure.
OPAQUE EXPLANATIONS
I suppose the most irritating power outages are those planned ahead of time, especially when they're not for maintenance purposes. You just think (perhaps unfairly) that there has to be a better option. If a wayward 18-wheeler rams into a utility pole and the lights go out, well that's understandable. You can't plan for that. But cryptic messages about "generating capacity" and "reserve margin" mean little to the fellow who mistakenly put three teaspoons of salt in his coffee because, in the dark, the salt and sugar looked exactly the same. I do not know this individual personally.
I'm sure there is complicated technical talk about watts, grids and so forth that can explain the need for load-shedding. But the truth is, I shouldn't have to care about that. As a paying customer, I don't have to know how you do what you do. All I have to care about is that I get what I pay for. And for the money Jamaican energy consumers are forced to pay, we should be getting the best electricity supply imaginable. Load-shedding is a vexing term. Even though we're used to it by now, it hasn't lost any of its sting over the years. We know all about the misery it can signify, even though people in other countries might well mistake it for something else entirely.
"Mildred looks splendid in her new skinny jeans ever since her recent load-shedding."
Silly people.
We've come a far way in many ways. We have six-lane highways, cars that give directions if you ask nicely, our cellphones all but make the bed, yet our power supply is still iffy. Watching the news on TV, you might get the impression that only in war-ravaged places like Iraq and Afghanistan is electricity supply rationed. Apparently not.
When will it end?
We don't know if this latest series of load-shedding exercises is actually over (it doesn't seem like JPS knows either), so we might as well make the best of it. Why should we be so cynical, anyway? Remember, it's Jamaica 50, so maybe this is a good time to bring back the feeling of old-time Jamaica. You know, when kerosene lamps were all the rage and evenings were spent with neighbours under a breadfruit tree sharing duppy stories.
The only trouble is, things have changed so much that gathering in the dark outside to tell stories these days presents a rather real risk to life, limb and property. The most frightful creatures today aren't the ghost and goblins of stories shared under moonlight. The hoodlums and hooligans who roam the streets at night-time are far more terrifying.
The best way to celebrate Jamaica 50 might be for us to finally come up with a solution to our energy woes. That way, when our children and grandchildren gather to celebrate Jamaica 100, they won't have to do so under threat of load-shedding