David Savona
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A Greener (And Frostier) World
Posted: 04:58 PM ET, April 22, 2009
I like to think I’ve done my part in the fight against global warming—on a very localized level. I speak, of course, about the beer fridge.
A beer fridge typically evolves from an old refrigerator that someone in the house (usually the wife) has deemed inappropriate for use in the kitchen. Sure, it still works, as in it keeps things nice and cold, but no doubt it’s showing its age. Perhaps there are a few scratches on the doors, maybe the fan makes too much noise, or maybe the shelves in the door no longer function properly. When you whip open the door of your refrigerator to grab the milk, and bottles of ketchup and mustard fly across the room, it’s a sign that you need a new refrigerator. (I speak from experience.) And with it, a beer fridge is born.
I recently bought a new refrigerator, leaving me with three: the new one, for upstairs; the one with the cracked door shelves, which was otherwise perfectly functional; and the smallish one I had in my basement, keeping beers cold. My plan was to replace the old beer fridge with the larger one, leaving me one beer fridge too many.
My friend Rick was in the market for a beer fridge of his own. He was going to buy a new one. Instead, I gave him mine in exchange for an old sofa that was destined to clog another landfill. We hit upon a green solution.
Now much like the weathered refrigerator that no longer finds itself welcome in the civilized confines of a home, Rick’s sofa had been asked to leave his house by his significant other. But the flaws that ushered in its exile (some stains on the fabric here, a rip there) made it a perfect fit for the aesthetics of my subterranean cigar bunker, which yearned for more seating. The arrangement was perfect.
This weekend, right after driving from the Big Smoke at MGM Grand Foxwoods, I borrowed coworker Jack Bettridge’s pickup truck (yes, Bettridge drives a pickup truck—go figure) and drove it home to make the transfer. Rick pulled up to my home, a big smile on his face, and we got to work.
As Rick and I lugged the medium-sized refrigerator into the bed of the truck, we reflected on the genius of the first person who opted not to recycle, sell or trash his dingy refrigerator and said to himself: ‘Hey, this thing would look great in my basement with a case of cold beer inside.’
The beer fridge is simple genius, and makes any smoking room sustainable. No need for endless trips upstairs, no need to fill a cooler with ice when you’re having friends over for poker and cigars, no need to leave the room at all, really.
At the end of the day, I plopped down on my new old couch and fired up a cigar with cold beers only steps away. All was right in the world. Rick came by, happy to report that his new beer fridge was actively chilling frosties of his own.
Now that’s recycling I can believe in.
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User Name: Alex Benes, California Posted: 06:34 PM ET, April 22, 2009
OR: 1) Live in a single-story house. The beer is always easily accessible with no fear for your remaining knee cartilage. 2) Live in Southern California. The "sofa" is the comfortable outdoor furniture. The "cigar bunker" is the backyard, including the spa (what we back east used to call a Jacuzzi). and, finally, though I know you and I have our different ideas about this, David: 3) Drink rum. Of course, then you need a freezer for the ice. Please refer to 1.