"Wires", #inktober52, #inktober

I lamented to a couple of millennial friends a while back that their peers don't know how to do real basic things like cook an egg or change a light bulb.  My friends were unfazed.  One idly asked, "What do they do when a light bulb goes out?"  "They call an electrician or wait until somebody else comes over who knows what to do", I answered.  My friend shrugged his shoulders and said, "Problem solved then."  I wanted to scream.  No, what about the next bulb?  Why are they wasting money on electricians?!

It seems like I should've remembered my concerned outrage when my kitchen light started acting up.  Sometimes the pull chain worked, sometimes it didn't.  Sometimes I had to climb up on my sink and fiddle with it until the light went off.  When this happened often enough that I found myself swearing on a regular basis, I plugged in an inadequate lamp because I'm not calling an electrician for a stupid light.  I'm good at ignoring some problems.

I told a pal about this and he told me the light was an easy fix, the inexpensive part easily found at the home improvement store.  Okay.  I listened, but I didn't get the part.  I envisioned the store being filled with guys too tough to wear masks during our ever-increasing Covid-19 problem.  Besides, my friend thought this was an easy part to find, but he's a guy.  Those stores are designed for people like him.  They're intended to confuse people with ovaries.  I kept living with my inadequate lamp and washed dishes in daylight until my pal showed up with the part and a bottle of Jack Daniels.  Thanks!

I'll admit I was more drawn to the whiskey than the stupid switch, but I dutifully went to the basement and turned off the "kitchen" breaker.  This did not turn off the kitchen light.  I went back to the basement and tried another breaker.  Up the steps, down the steps, up, down, up, down... F it, I turned off the main switch.  The light finally went off along with every other electric thing I own, including my tetchy computer.  Arg.

I climbed onto the kitchen sink and balanced precariously next to the ceiling while dismantling the light fixture, fiberglass insulation wafting in my face and sticking to my sweaty face on one of the hottest days of the year.  My pal had said there were 3 wires inside.  He was wrong.  There were 5 or 6.  Despite this confusing turn of events, I successfully hooked up the new switch, muscled the light fixture back onto the ceiling, and turned the main breaker on again.  Then, there was light!

I put a long-life bulb in the light fixture.  It's my sincere hope I never have to mess with that light again.  I turn the light on and off for fun these days.  I wonder at myself for being willing to live with that inadequate lamp.  I worry about all those millennials living through Covid-19 seclusion in the dark with raw eggs.

Would you have called the electrician or do you ignore stuff like this?

"Electronic"

When I was about 5 or 6 I wondered about electricity.  There were outlets around the house and I didn't understand the magic behind them.  I literally mean behind them because obviously something mysterious was going on behind the wall I couldn't see.  The outlets provided an inlet into hidden magic, but I had a sense that there was something dangerous about it.  This was a very vague danger to me other than I felt pretty certain I'd get in trouble if I stuck something into the outlet hole.

Bro1 happened to come by while I was contemplating this mystery, providing an opportunity.  While I might get in trouble for playing with the outlet, Bro1 never got in trouble for anything.  "C'mere!  Let's see what happens when you stick this darning needle in that hole!"  No sooner than the thought was expressed he committed the deed -- and got blown across the room.  Cool.  It still didn't explain electricity, but at least it gave a definition of "danger".  And yes, I got in trouble even though I wasn't the one who stuck the needle in.  My parents didn't appreciate the technicalities of the offense.

I don't think Bro1 was all that harmed by the experience, but you never know.  It might explain some things?  Besides, he was perfectly able to come up with his own ill-conceived ideas.  Even so, I feel a little regret.  Not too much, but a little.

Come to think of it, I think Sis2 planted the idea in my mind.  Seems to me she should've been the one to get in trouble for instigating, and to carry the regret too.  Where's the justice?!

Ah yes, childhood, where curiosity is discouraged outside of the approved limitations.  It's like another time when I improved our shampoo.  Mom bought 2 kinds, both in economy sizes.  Dandruff shampoo and the other kind.  I figured it would be better to mix both kinds together to eliminate dandruff for everybody.  The clear brown shampoo turned a murky sludge color while the dandruff shampoo looked kind of moldy pea soup.

Mom flipped out so I wasn't going to admit I did it.  Punishments for everybody.  I didn't feel guilty though since my siblings often caused unmerited punishments for me too.  If anything, I thought I should've been rewarded for improving shampoo.  Mom was clearly stifling my creativity and scientific curiosity, but I'm starting to think that it's just as well that I wasn't interested in electronics.  I might've burned down the house or at least destroyed some things -- which is now reminding me of my fascination with matches.  Yeah, just as well I didn't play with electric things anymore... though now I'm remembering getting into the back of the TV and messing with the tubes...

In current events, I made lime meringue pies this week.  The recipe seemed simple.  I was deceived.  It was a mess.  I made it harder by whisking the egg whites by hand and learned you a very big bowl to whisk eggs.  It also took about 20 minutes of arm-numbing whisking.  Cooking the egg yolk mixture required more whisking.  I think my favorite electronic thing this week is an electric blender.

I shared pie with Bro2 and we agree, pie is delicious.  Meringue is spectacular, and not to be confused with white foam at a restaurant.  My strenuous whisking made floating clouds of delicate pleasure.  Mmmm!!!