A week like the last one makes it difficult to keep from becoming frustrated and stressed out. We have not only been confronted with big problems that are beyond our control, such as a shut-down government, but ordinary little things have turned out to be complicated.
One would think that a simple thing like getting a replacement light bulb for one of the recessed ceiling lights in the living room would be “no problemo.” So, off I go, carrying the bad 60 watt dimmable bulb with me. Searching through the thousands of categories and varieties of bulbs at Store No. 1 resulted in no match. I sought assistance and an alternative bulb was suggested.
I pay $5.89, drive home, drag a chair to below the bad bulb receptacle and screw the new bulb in. It doesn’t work. I unscrew it and get one of the good bulbs from another receptacle and try it in the vacant receptacle. It works.
Therefore, I know there is nothing wrong with the receptacle. I test the new bulb in a table lamp. It works fine. I compare the threads on the new bulb and the old bulb. The bases look the same, except the number of threads do not coincide.
Store No. 1 refunds my $5.89 and I go to Store No. 2, again carrying my original bad bulb with me. Again, not a single match out of hundreds of bulbs.
So, I still have a vacant recessed light in the living room. The recessed lights were installed in 2001, so they shouldn’t be out of date.
Our daughter in Tulsa sends an email to my wife and me describing the marvelous fl an cake she had baked for a backyard party. She includes the recipe and insists we try it.
The cake is fairly simple but it requires the use of three separate mixing bowls. I am a one-bowl person usually, but we tackle the project, which consists of three layers of stuff.
During baking, the top layer changes places with the bottom layer. The oven light had been working perfectly until we put the cake in the hot oven. The light then went out. We subsequently baked the cake for the stated length of time. It came out a little on the dark side. The next day I was planning to bake an enchilada casserole for supper. I called my wife and told her to stop by a certain store and pick up an appliance bulb or two before she came home. I described the package as having a picture of a cooking range and a refrigerator on it, being 40 watts, and said it would have “appliance bulb” on the end of the bulb as well as on the package.
Wife brings the new bulb as requested. Using scissors and a steak knife, I remove it from the plastic wrap with minimal blood loss. I get far enough into the oven to reach the bulb cover and proceed to unscrew the expired bulb. I then get a can of compressed air and spray into the socket to remove any debris, if any. I try to insert the new bulb, but it refuses to be screwed in. Finally, with only the necessary cursing, I get the bulb in the socket. No light.
I compare the old and the new bulbs. They are identical in every way, except the new one has three threads on the base and a lump of lead near the top, whereas the old one has four threads and no lead lump. I drive back into town and go to another store. It has the same brand and package, except there are four threads on the bulb and no lump of lead.
I buy it, take it home, screw it into the socket, and viola! We have oven light.
Well, the list goes on, but you get the idea. The term “assisted living” does not sound so bad to me, somehow.
Opinion, Pages 4 on 10/23/2013