Bill, there were times that I felt like that Norman Rockwell lineman in the painting.
Once I had to lash the bucket to the strand with a length of nylon line, because the wind was making the pole sway so far away from me that I couldn't reach the splice.
I would leave the Southampton garage in the summer, wearing a T shirt, and by the time I got to Montauk, I needed to put on a flannel shirt, a hoody, and a field jacket. The bucket heater was going on practically every job, even in the middle of summer. It amazed me that people actually spent their hard-earned money to vacation there, rather than some nicer place, such as Death Valley, or Siberia.
