November
2004, Issue 172
 |
Priority
Interrupt
by Steve Ciarcia
Feel
the Heat
|
When
you buy a new car, you think about gas mileage, right?
When you notice that one of your faucets drips constantly,
you fix it, right? If there are lights on all over the
house, you go around and turn them off, right?
I’d
like to think we do all these things because we’re conservationists
who want to save the planet, but I know the real reason
is a bit more selfish. Certainly, if you don’t have
a large family, or if you feel an incessant need to
know you can squash other cars like bugs, there are
saner and more economical transportation choices than
a Hummer. Similarly, the dripping faucet gets fixed
when the water bill suggests that using bottled water
from the grocery store would have been cheaper than
the city water utility.
I’m
probably a bad example for the rest of the world, and
I certainly can’t quite see myself roller skating or
biking to work. In fact, if it weren’t for the electric
bill, I could go on in ignorant bliss forever. Unfortunately,
I made the mistake of asking how much it was. (My wife
handles the personal finance stuff.)
The
question was prompted after I walked out into the corridor
behind the Circuit Cellar. It was 2 a.m., and I didn’t
even need the lights to see where I was going. There
were so many backlit LCDs, LEDs, pilot lights, and shimmering
indicators and displays that the entire place glowed.
There are a hundred LEDs on the HCS II I/O boards alone.
Obviously, 20 years of tacking displays and LEDs on
all my projects has caught up with me. As I walked back
upstairs, the home control system switched lights on
and off in each room. Eventually, I stood in the kitchen
and looked around. Inside the house, the HCS II had
a half-dozen bulbs dimmed to half brightness. Outside
the house, it looked like a Wal-Mart parking lot. Whether
for security, mood lighting, or just so our dog Katy
doesn’t get lost in the dark, my home is what you’d
call “well lit.”;-) Of course, long ago, I replaced
the incandescent floods (that consumed thousands of
watts) with more efficient sodium vapor lights, but
there are still at least 10 outside floodlights on various
duty cycles.
Just
for the heck of it, the next morning I asked how much
our average electric bill was, and my wife said, “It
peaks a little more during the summer with air conditioning,
but it averages about $300 a month!” Needless to say,
I was shocked. We don’t have an electric water heater,
electric stove, or electric heating. Should I get Katy
a miner’s light, kill the floods, and tell her to fend
for herself?
Electronic
living is certainly more expensive than I thought. Even
with electricity billed at 10.5 cents a kilowatt-hour
in Connecticut, a few floods and corridor lights shouldn’t
be doing all this. I could see maybe $50 a month for
all these “nite” lights. Where was everything else coming
from?
I
decided to do a test. My house isn’t really a house;
it’s more like a compound with five buildings (garages,
greenhouse, etc.). Because it is so spread out, I actually
have two utility service entrances (two bills totaling
$300 and, as if that isn’t complicated enough, seven
electric service panels). I decided to see what the
quiescent current was for all this mess. At 4 p.m. (in
late September), the heating and air conditioning systems
weren’t running, and the inside and outside lights were
off. I clipped my trusty AC ammeter on each leg of the
220-V service feeding the outside garages. It read approximately
1.5 A on each leg. I proceeded to the house and repeated
the process. This time I read 3 A on one leg and 6 A
on the second. Neglecting power factor issues, it looks
like I’m burning over $100/month in Shutdown mode!
I
started looking around for the culprits. You’d be surprised
how many there are. Down in the Circuit Cellar, the
desktops were off, but everything else was plugged in
and ready. The DSL modem and Wi-Fi sat there flashing
away, and the router was consuming enough power to be
at 106°. (It’s a long story why I know the temperature.)
Without ripping out a bunch of power cords, I could
easily presume that the HCS II stuff was good for a
couple hundred watts with all the displays, indicators,
and powered peripherals all over the network. When I
turned around, I could see at least a dozen wall-wart
power supplies for various electronic gadgets. Another
power supply “growth culture” clogged more AC outlets
a few feet away. Add to that all the battery chargers,
humming UPSs, webcams, satellite receivers, and security
systems—arrrgh! I hadn’t even gone beyond one room,
and I could see a major problem with wasted power.
Obviously,
there isn’t an immediate and easy resolution. For sure
I have to do some triaging to prioritize my power leaks,
but I can’t simply unplug everything without ending
up back in the Stone Age. Life today demands that everything
be connected, and by necessity, a lot of it is powered
all the time. In my case, it just means I need a much
heavier power cord than most people.