The Windblown Rental

Life in a rental.
Not unlike life in a rental car, I might add: restrictions, limitations and, in the case of a Plymouth Neon I once rented (purple, at that), drafty and somewhat leaky. The car's trunk leaked, only discovered after two days of driving through a massive Washington rainstorm. Fortunately, a dryer was near the destination, otherwise it would've been a miserable trip.

This rental unit, though, aka, my 1935-era apartment defintiely has charm. It's an upstairs unit in a four-apartment building located in a very quiet neighborhood. Rooms are square, well-painted, and southeastern light pours in, which I love. This is quite obvious by my multitude of sunrise phone pix I've posted on facebook. Can't get enough of those colors.

All door handles are original glass, and crazily, all doors close with ease, no stickiness over the shiny hardwood floors. The selling feature, other than the upstairs location was not the view of the Mormon Temple in the distance as pointed out by my landlord. I controlled my commentary and chortle in that unexpected closing deal point. I'd like to point out that despite their 10 million holiday bulb and display this year, not a single red, blue, or orange light could be seen from where I stand right now. Sad. I had to drive by and get blinded by the massive electrical display the Temple is widely known for. If you've not seen it, hurry and swing by: in Oakland, just off Highway 13. You'll see the sky lit up like a fireworks display just over its peaked tower. Can't miss it; I think airline pilots use it as a guide in heavy fog.

No, the selling feature was the closet hidden behind a flush wall. Very Batman, if you ask me. The wall swivels out; in its prime, it once held a Murphy bed and built-in dressers were tucked in behind. Now, it's just a virtually unnoticeable walk-in closet with a swing-out single paned window for daytime illumination. Love it!

Besides these fine features and the olive green gas stove, circa 1971 of which it's four burners are either on High or Off (makes for some very interesting cooking, I tell you), the downside is where the rental becomes a true rental. I'm sitting here at my desk, facing south a window nary 12 inches from me. As I type these very letters, a cold draft sweeps down over the Levoloar slats and chills my fingers. The string that's used to draw up these blinds sways not from my fast typing but from the wind that's gusting through the 75 year-old, single-paned windows. I hear wind whistling here.

I have a heater, oh yes, of course I do. However it's a single wall unit located two rooms away. It effectively heats that space dirctly in front of it, which is where I often stand to scald my skin and warm up.

My landlord maintains that the windows add character, not unlike the ancient galvanized pipes with little to no water pressure do too. I think he's got stock options with PG & E, as my gas bill has been climbing steadily since moving in: showers take an extra 20 minutes since a trickle makes for some slow shampoo rinsing. Yes, I'm bound up in a hat, extra sweater, down booties and finger-cut gloves. Finger tips are bluish ice cubes. Ear lobes are rounded icicles.

For charm, I freeze. Could I move? I'm bound by a lease for another 10 months. I suppose I could plasticize my windows with that funky clear insulation, aka, dry cleaner packaging. Dare I? Then my lovely rental would lose some of the charm that makes it so inviting. That devine secret closet wouldn't have its clear, southerly light casting a pale glow upon my clothes - they'd be shrouded by an opaque plastique hue.

Life in a rental. We must accept so many of the benefits in the face of the pitfalls. Like that Dodge Neon, I got great mileage but paid a ton for extra trash bags and laundromat usage. Here, I'm in an optimal locale, but feel like I'd get a different kind of trash bag on my windows that might chip away at that convenience discount significantly. I heard the windchime tinkle outside and noticed that the blinds just clacked against each other as another gust blew through.

I need to go stand in front of my heater and defrost.