I had an idea.
The bulb over my head indicating that would ordinarily have lit up, but it was blown, just like the bulb over the sink in my bathroom.
It has been like that for a few weeks now.
I had light from the window and light from the other fixture to illuminate the space, but I knew sooner or later I needed to change it.
So, how many Jasons does it take to change a light bulb?
I know it is easy—so you say.
But, it takes a little knowledge and skill to climb up there and take the light bulb out and put the new one in.
You laugh, but I’m not joking. You see, I am not mechanically inclined in the slightest.
When I was growing up, it was my job to fetch the 9/16ths wrench or shine the flashlight. I can handle that. My Daddy and my brother are very talented with mechanics. That gene passed me by. The pen, the keyboard and wordsmithing are my gifts. It is all I really know how to do. Without them, I don’t know how I would survive.
Oh, I know how to change a light bulb. It’s just that sometimes complications set in.
First of all, I don’t like heights. I know, I know. You are saying it isn’t very high up to get to the light fixtures in your house. That is correct. It is very reachable with a two step stool or ladder.
It’s just the principle of the thing.
I remember having to change one of the globe lights at the church one time many years ago. I don’t know exactly how tall the ceiling is in the church I grew up in, but it is very high and way up there. I was a new deacon back then, long before I felt the call to the ministry. Did I mention I don't like heights. I try to stay on the ground with feet firmly planted on the earth as much and as often as I can, but I had to climb up that day and change the bulb. The base of the bulb broke off inside the fixture. I had to use half of an Irish potato to unscrew the bulb.
On another occasion, I dropped the globe covering said bulb and it shattered into a gazillion pieces, well, shards. Very sharp shards. Sharp shards that stuck in your fingers as you stupidly tried to collect said shards with your bare hands. A light bulb should have went off in my head, but alas, it was probably blown, too.
To avoid the possibility of that happening again, I decided not to replace the globe. Hence, there is a stark naked light bulb hanging up in that room.
Anyway, I was having to read instructions on something while I was in said room, but I couldn’t read it because the overhead light was blown.
I had an idea. “Jason,” I said to myself, because we are very close friends, “Why don’t you fix that blown light bulb?”
He agreed that was a good idea.
I went to the storage cabinet, got a brand, spanking new light bulb with about 850 lumens. I don’t know what that means, but it makes me sound bright.
I climbed up on the step ladder. I didn’t break into a cold sweat, but every muscle in my lower body stiffened and steeled to brace against the frame of the ladder.
I unscrewed the blown bulb. The old one came out, base and all. I installed the new one.
I carefully climbed down the step ladder. I was tempted to kiss the floor as I got back on the ground.
I flipped the switch. All 850 lumens burst forth into glorious light.
I am proud of me and my bright ideas.
Jason Deal is News Editor for The Blackshear Times. Reach him at jdeal@blacksheartimes. news.
