My car turned 100,000 miles last Friday. When I climbed in to drive home Friday evening the left headlight was out. Is it possible the car knew? It’s a bulb which had been replaced just a few weeks ago.
Cue the Twilight Zone music.
Two bulbs out so quickly hints at an electrical problem. I drove by my friend Steve’s yesterday. I give him computer advice. He gives me car advice. I get the better end of this deal.
He pulled the lamp and looked. It was burned out. You could see a blob where there had once been filament. Wow. That’s an awfully short life for a bulb. At least there was no electrical problem.
I stopped by an auto parts store on my way to work today. They were very nice, but I’m sure they assumed the dorky guy in the suit had no clue what he was doing! I give off those outward signs.
I went back to the car, popped the hood, threw on a pair of latex gloves Helaine had in the kitchen and did a bulb transplant. There’s no way I could have done it had I not seen Steve do it first.
Let there be light!
For guys like me who grew up knowing we had no physical acumen the mere act of changing a lightbulb is cause for celebration… and a blog entry.