The Air-Conditioned Nightmare

My plane predictably delayed and after 7 hours in the airport, finally heading home to San Francisco. Back to my house at 1:00 am SF time, the air chilly, the Lyft driver untalkative (I was spoiled by New Orleans) and my home a bit cold, but with real air. Such a relief after two-weeks in the over-air-conditioned dorm room with absolutely no way of adjusting the temperature or fan. My three roomies in the suite liked it fine, but they agreed to help me duct-tape my vent in my room and that helped. But between the air-conditioning in the Dolomites and again in New Orleans and soon to be in my next trip to China, I couldn’t help but thing of the title of one of Henry Miller’s books, The Air-Conditioned Nightmare. 

 

 I don’t love trying to sleep in hot rooms, but 9 times out of 10, a simple ceiling fan is enough. It seemed that our environmental awareness made it common knowledge that air conditioners contribute to global warming, an irony since the rising temperatures drive us to seek cooling solutions that contribute to the rising temperatures. There are now roughly 2 billion air conditioners  worldwide, with the number set to almost triple to 5.6 billion by 2050. According to a UN report, air conditioners will account for 10% of global greenhouse gas emissions. In addition to environmental affects, air conditioners suck moisture out of a room to bring down the humidity and cool it off. This can pull water from your skin, drying it -- and you -- out. Some studies show that people who work in air-conditioned buildings suffer from more respiratory issues and are vulnerable to headaches, dry cough and sensitivity to odors. 

 

But I don’t need a report to tell me I just don’t like spending days in over-air-conditioned rooms. And ironically, for my taste, most are much colder than they need to be to take the edge off the unpleasant heat. 

 

Meanwhile, it was interesting to look through Henry Miller’s book again. Browsing through it, I never find a sentence that quotes the title, but it’s a worthy look at a trip through America he took in 1940-41 after living abroad in Paris and other places. As the title suggests, he is not impressed by the land of his birth. Virtually every chapter holds our materialistic culture’s feet to the fire and below is just one example:

 

“The most terrible thing about America is that there is no escape from the treadmill which we have created. There isn’t one fearless champion of truth in the publishing world, not one film company devoted to art instead of profits. We have no theatre worth the name, we have no music worth talking about except what the Negro has given us and scarcely a handful of writers who might be called creative. We have murals decorating our public buildings which are about on a par with the aesthetic development of high school students. We have lifeless museums that are crammed with lifeless junk. We have an architectural taste which is about as near the vanishing pointa as it is possible to achieve. In the ten thousand miles I have travelled thus far I have come across two cities which have each of them a little section worth a second look—Charleston and New Orleans. “   (p. 31)

Note the reference to black American music and New Orleans. He had his finger on that pulse some 85 years ago. In another section, he shares a conversation with a black woman who told him: 

 

“I do think we have more love for you that you have for us.”

“You don’t hate us ever?” I asked.

“Lord no!” she answered, “we just feel sorry for you. You has all the power and the wealth but you ain’t happy.”

 

I think of the fine architecture of New Orleans, the exuberant, joyful music we heard each and every night, the black women Lyft drivers so fun and friendly— and I believe Henry got it right. So many sit in the comfort of an air-conditioned nightmare as miserable as can be.

 

So a thankful farewell to New Orleans and a thankful hello to San Francisco that has one thing over that fine city— the natural air-conditioning of summer fog! I’m loving it!