Nick Jimenez

In a dry and thirsty land, spies come into their own

If I dig around in my desk, I think I can still find one of those thousands of water-saving kits the city handed out back in the rationing days in the mid-1980s. Matters may come down to that as the levels in the city's reservoirs continue to drop.
   In contrast with earlier water-short periods in recent history, the present conservation plans are pretty easy. The city has instituted mandatory lawn watering restrictions and the now-usual restrictions on asking for water at restaurants.
   And of course, the water cops, the city employees who have the unenviable task of going around and collaring water wasters, are back. In the days of the Pilgrims, social misfits and outcasts were put in stocks and displayed in the public square. Of course, they were just doing things like adultery or blasphemy. They weren't doing really bad stuff, like letting the hose run unattended.
   As the water gets lower, eagle eyes will watch for the water wasters. Already this week, some unlucky (and forgetful) person over at the county courthouse earned the county a splash on the front page when a sprinkler was left running in the heat of the day. Quick! Get the rope!
   Any resident who unwittingly so much as wanders outside with a spray hose in his or her hand between the hours of 10 a.m. and 6 p.m., the prohibited period, will soon be treated like a crazed gunman wandering the streets.
   The neighbor next door will get quoted in the papers: "He just kept to himself. He was real quiet and a good neighbor. He gave cookies to the kids. How was I to know that he was secretly turning on his soaker hose at 5:30 p.m? Is there no limit to human depravity?"
   Do you notice yourself looking at your watch whenever you see a sprinkler on during daylight hours? (Look at that guy; I betcha he couldn't wait for 6:01 p.m.)
   Times of crisis have the tendency to throw communities together; all for one and one for all. We all remember those days after Hurricane Celia in 1970 when neighbors became closer, joined by the common discomfiture of no electricity, downed fences and defrosting steaks. Come on over, neighbor, and we'll drink warm beer and stuff ourselves with steaks that'll rot if we don't eat them now.
   Spying on neighbors
   Even in the water rationing days of 1984, Corpus Christi displayed its resourcefulness, with residents ready to share their ways of stretching the wet stuff. Residents re-used clothes washer water, dishwater, and even bathtub water. We used those city-issued water conservation kits that included restrictors for showerheads. Using a dribble of water spray to get the soap off was akin to patriotism.
   But there is something about the water watch that goes against all that. Spying on your neighbor has a sour taste to it. Just when we all ought to be in this together - you and your neighbor's water are coming from the same place - the water spy network sends the message that it's not you who's wasting water, it's that guy down the street.
   Should we conserve water? By all means. Corpus Christi ought to be the state leader in water conservation and water recycling. We are a city that has had two major water projects in less than 20 years - Choke Canyon in 1982 and the Mary Rhodes Pipeline in 1998 - and are still facing water challenges. Desalination will probably be next. We won't ever have enough of the stuff to waste it.
   The water watch is not nearly as good as the best tool against water wasting - the water meter. One of the positive effects of the 1984 water rationing exercise is that citizens got intimately aware of their water meter (I actually discovered where the darned thing was). If your household had a limit of 7,000 gallons for the month, with a hefty penalty for violating the limit, then you listened at the bathroom door to see how long Junior ran the shower.
   But what do we do about water wasters like local government when it leaves sprinklers running? What's the penalty for politicians who don't watch water usage? I say, take it out of their paychecks.
  
   Nick Jimenez can be reached by phone at 886-3787 or by e-mail at jimenezn@caller.com.
  
  

 
Archives | Arts & Entertainment | Audio/Video | Business | Classifieds | Columns | Food | Forums | Health & Fitness | News | Obits | Opinions | People | Politics | Science/Technology | Search | Sports | Subscribe | Travel | Weather Previous columns | Discussion forums | Home Page

---

  © 2000 Corpus Christi Caller Times, a Scripps Howard newspaper. All rights reserved.