Rust Thou Art

     We had our fuel oil tank replaced last year.  It was old, original with the house, but it looked to be in fine shape, from the outside anyway.  But sophisticated diagnostic devices detected unseen rust on the inside of the tank.  I didn't understand how a vessel containing oil would rust, seemed counterintuitive to me.  The technician explained that heating oil contains some water, which condenses at the top of the tank and subsequently rusts.  We'd had the bladder water tank serving the main water pump replaced several years before, for much the same reason. So we're not in denial about  the power of rust.
     Last night we ran out of water, in the midst of a bathtub fill, suddenly and inexplicably.  No water anywhere, not in the bathroom or the kitchen.  I went into the basement and checked the circuit breakers; they were all in the correct "on" position. I flipped the switch on the water pump, to no avail.  What to do at this time of night?  Who to call---a plumber, electrician, well-driller, real estate agent?  I chose the obvious, and called Joe T., whose response time was well within the limits of  emergency responder.  He suspects the water pump needs replacing.  It is evidently not really old, but is visibly rusted.  As he was leaving through the front door, our outside light failed and, I, as has become my custom, reached up and tapped it to turn it back on.  Joe checked, said the bulb was loose, and the cap-screws holding the globe were rusted, making it hard to remove and tighten the bulb.  But he overcame the rust and Lo! There is light. 
   So I sit here this morning, parched and dry, and waiting for water, and pondering the  effects of rust:   insidious, destructive rust, that eats away from the inside out.  All are subject----fuel tanks, oil tanks, water pumps, water tanks, joints of any kind including knees, the mind-----Oz never did give nothing to the tin man.