M. Giant's
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks

Friday, February 06, 2004  

Let There Be—AAAAAH!!

Humpblog? What humpblog? Bygones. Let's move on.

Our kitchen has a ceiling fan/light fixture that's been there since before we moved in, and as I may have mentioned before, I hate it. It has four light sockets, but only two or three of them work, and one of those dangles from the fixture like the eyeball of a pug dog that's been briskly smacked in the back of the head.

We need to get Laurie from Trading Spaces in there to take it down. "Thanks, that's all," we'll say. "We don't need yellow walls or a backsplash made of amaaaaaazing fabric that cost you fifty bucks a yard. Seriously, you're done now."

We got home from New Orleans this week and all of the bulbs were burnt out. Nice welcome. The sight of that filled me with more despair than did the charnel-house stank emanating from whatever was fermenting in the garbage disposal.

After giving Strat his evening shot (which was complicated by not having a kitchen light to hold the syringe up to check for bubbles, but at press time he had yet to be felled by a pulmonary embolism, so yay), I brought up a couple of light bulbs and went to work.

I've described the process of changing a bulb on this fixture before, so I don't need to go into it again. While I stood there twisting the one of the old bulbs for ten, fifteen minutes, I thought for the umpteenth time about how nice it would be to have a new fan/light in there. One day we'd get around to replacing it, and then every time the bulbs burned out I wouldn't have to worry about something going wrong, so the last thing I'd see before everything goes black would be a flash and a puff of smoke.

The last thing I saw before everything went black was a flash and a puff of smoke.

I also heard Trash let out a startled yelp, so I knew I wasn't dead. Also, my heart was beating in a healthy, non-fibrillatory rhythm. I could tell because it had leapt up between my ears. The reason everything had gone black is because I'd somehow shorted out the circuit that supplies power to 75 per cent of the house.

No problem. I'll just Helen-Keller my way down to the basement, grope for the popped breaker, and throw it back on. As expected, the power comes back on. As not expected, the power goes back off after a tenth of a second. Repeat until frustrated shouts drift down from upstairs.

Rather than cursing the darkness (some more) I found a flashlight to investigate the source of the short. As it turned out, I'd twisted the socket clean off the wires, leaving the exposed leads in contact with each other. "I need to separate these," I told Trash. "You want to go downstairs and turn the power off?" She thinks I'm funny sometimes, but not always.

Now our kitchen has a ceiling fan/light fixture combo with two light sockets that work. One of these dangles from the fixture like the eyeball of a pug dog that's been briskly smacked in the back of the head. One of the non-functional ones has been replaced by two live wires that are insulated from each other by a few inches of empty space. If a professional basketball player stops by and brushes against them with his forehead he's going to have some very short and intense hallucinations. But it's okay, because one day we're going to get around to replacing it.

I’m thinking that day might be tomorrow.

Today's best search phrase: "How to download the movie Thirteen without Evan Rachel Wood without paying a penny." I can understand being cheap, but if you're that dead set against Evan Rachel wood, maybe you should consider downloading a different movie.

posted by M. Giant 11:18 AM 0 comments


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