Wood that it were so | The imprecise undertaking of buying a cord of firewood
When you buy a quart of milk, you never wonder if you’re getting all 32 ounces that make up a quart. It says “quart” right on the container. Same thing with a gallon of spring water — you may wonder if the water really came from a sparkling spring, but you never doubt that you’re getting a whole gallon. After all, it’s in a gallon jug.
When you buy hamburg, you tell the clerk you want about two pounds and it’s weighed on a digital scale right in front of you to within one-one-hundredth of a pound. That may be a tad more accuracy than most of us require, but they give it to you anyway.
The exactitude involved in purchasing quarts of milk, gallons of water and pounds of hamburg is often lacking when it comes to buying firewood.
Now that fall is within sight, Mainers know it’s time to start shopping around for firewood. Mainers also know that most firewood is sold by an odd measurement known as a “cord.” People know a cord of wood is supposed to measure 4 feet by 4 feet by 8 feet, or 128 cubic feet of pure, unadulterated, ready-to-burn, carbon-neutral wood. If you don’t know that, you have no business being in Maine at this time of year.
But, be honest. When you order a cord of firewood and your wood guy comes and dumps it in your dooryard, you have no idea how many cubic feet of wood are in that pile, do you? When was the last time you carefully stacked your firewood in a 4 x 4 x 8-foot pile to confirm that you had 128 cubic feet of wood, right on the nose? That’s right — never.
Yet every week in the newspaper you see dozens of ads for firewood and every ad gives the price in so many dollars per cord. When you call your wood guy and order your $280-per-cord of firewood, you cross your fingers and sometimes your toes and hope he delivers something resembling a cord because you know there’s nothing you can do about it if he doesn’t, is there?
Or call on your vast experience in the wood products industry and say with confidence, “I know my cordwood and that’s no cord of wood you delivered, mister.” Try this, the next time you order a cord of firewood: Ask the delivery guy to stack your firewood neatly in a 4 x 4 x 8-foot pile, so you can be sure you’re receiving the agreed-upon 128 cubic feet.
After he stops laughing, he’ll probably say, “Hey, mister, you want the firewood or don’t you? I’m a busy man and I have about three more deliveries to do before I get my Brink’s guy to escort me to the bank with this morning’s receipts.”
What usually happens is you order a cord of wood and when the wood guy is good and ready, he shows up and dumps your wood in a pile in your dooryard and then knocks firmly on your backdoor for his check. You come to the door, look over his shoulder to eyeball the woodpile and — despite your cluelessness — shake your head “knowingly,” giving the completely false impression that you’re 100% satisfied because you know your cordwood and you’re pleased that you’re received the agreed-upon 128 cubic feet.
What if your oil guy delivered oil like your wood guy delivers firewood? What if the delivery guy pulled up in his truck and started filling your oil tank until he thought you had about 200 gallons, more or less, and then stopped pumping and wrote out a bill charging you for the whole 200 gallons?
The reason I use 200 gallons is because “experts” say a cord of wood should provide the same amount of heat or BTUs as 200 gallons of home heating oil. That hardwood should also produce 7 trillion toothpicks, but at this time of year most of us are thinking about next winter’s heat, not toothpicks, so we’ll save that discussion for another time.
What we need around here is a meter on firewood trucks. Put every piece of firewood through a meter and measure it so everyone knows exactly how many cubic feet of wood are being delivered. Ask your firewood guy what he thinks of that idea and let me know how long it takes before he stops laughing.
If my wood guy is reading this, you know I’m just kidding. We’ve never once questioned one of your cords. Never.
John McDonald, an author, humorist and storyteller who performs throughout New England, can be reached at mainestoryteller@yahoo.com. Read more of John’s columns at here.
Most Recent
Most Recent
Comments