Dear People in Our Service Area:

We regret blowing some of you up. It was certainly a foreseeable event, and we foresaw it, and then we said, "Well, let's see where it happens and then we'll be able to pinpoint the problem area." This approach, alas, had a significant public relations downside. We understand that, and we understand that it would be very bad if we blew any more people up.

But we can make no promises. All the pipes down underground there are pretty old, and we have no records of previous repairs. Strike that - we do have records of previous repairs, we just don't know where they are. We've been too busy making money. Come on, if you had the chance, wouldn't you just opt for the cash? Of course you would. You didn't take an oath or anything.

That's PG&E's motto, by the way: "It's not like we took an oath."

You may think that we were lax, perhaps criminally so. But PG&E would like to remind you that we didn't ask for any of this. We were just a nice little petroleum company out of Long Beach when ... but perhaps you don't know the corporate history of PG&E.

Some of you may remember PacGo, a string of Southern California gas stations. That was us, Pacific Gas. We also sold Pacific Motor Oil, Pacific Tires and Pacific Gaskets, "for a seal that's a deal." Times were good, and we decided to expand into providing electricity. Pacific Gas and Electricity, we called ourselves, because that is what we sold. Then, toward the end of the Depression (and probably a year too early), PG&E sold its gas stations.

People who were around the Bay Area during that time will remember the distinctive orange MGA vans that cruised the area. MGA, of course, was Mike's Gas and Associates. For years they installed natural gas pipes, serviced them and sent the gas zooming through them.

Sometime after the end of World War II, Mike decided to move to Boca Raton, Fla., to be closer to his kids. Since MGA was pretty much Mike and his brother Tony and Tony's son Wyatt, there was no one really to take over the business. But the natural gas kept flowing. Through a combination of circumstances, including a nasty divorce proceeding between the principal owners of Tucson Gas and Gas (TG&G), the suppliers of Mike's gas, nobody was actually paying attention to the business.

It's hard to remember now that most gas companies were mom-and-pop operations, covering a county or two. Consolidation happened rapidly, however.

With the demise of TG&G, customers began sending their checks to PG&E, even though we had nothing to do with the gas lines. "Take the money, take the money," screamed our then-chairman, who has since died.

"But sir," said one of his loyal employees (much like the person who writes these mendacious consumer outreach letters), "if we're going to accept money for the gas, we have to actually provide gas."

"Whatever," said our chairman, whose name I have conveniently forgotten.

So now we have these white PG&E vans all over. Men in our employ open manhole covers, step down into the maze of pipes and wires, and have a nice cool lunch. We even have three Official Poets on our payroll, and they use the quiet time to dash off a sonnet or two. (See our official yearly literary pamphlet, "Notes From the Underground.")

When storms hit, that mostly involves power lines, and we're good at the power lines. Remember, we are in the electricity business; it's just this gas thing we have trouble with. Mike, of MGA, was killed, alas, by a love-struck alligator at the fifth hole of the Del Mar Vista Golf Club in Miami, so we lost his wisdom before we could ask him a single question.

So that's the situation. Many of you may be blaming us for this sad state of affairs, but really, it's hardly our fault. If Mike put in faulty pipes, we do apologize. One last thing: We have been accused of faulty and incomplete record keeping. This is not true. We have no records of any kind that predate 1992, when we decided to hire three real inspectors and have them inspect. Alas, two of them are now dead of work-related lung problems.

Thank you for your understanding. Tomorrow: the future!