January 12, 2016. I Am A Fix-it Guy.

 

January 12, 2016.  I Am A Fix-it Guy.  The pictures above have no relation to today's theme.  They are just sights and scenes around the park.  Most were taken on our bike ride.  A gazillion birds have flocked to the area following National Bird Day.  I'd call the pictures a collage about nothing but Seinfeld has co-opted the idea of a show about nothing.  There was another picture of Annie seated in her chair, wearing her bicycle helmet and eating Tostitos.  It doesn't appear here because she made me delete it.  But, the picture caused me to wonder whether she was suffering from acute Tostito intoxication and worried about falling out of her chair.  Why else would she be wearing a bicycle helmet?

Enough of that.  Today's story is about me as a fix-it guy.  Several days ago, as were preparing to drive away from the campsite, Carl, from Barron, WI, came across the road and told me that my left headlight was out.  Carl and I lifted the bonnet (that's the British word for hood) and tried to discern how to replace the defective bulb.  After some mumbling and head-scratching, we gave up.

I am not handy.  If I pick up a screwdriver at home, Annie follows me around to be sure I don't hurt myself or break something.  She gets really nervous if I pick up a power tool.  An electric drill causes her to suit up in a Kevlar vest and steel-toed boots.  She has reason for concern.  I have a history which justifies it. 

But, the more I thought about it, the more I thought replacing a bulb was something I ought to be able to do.  I started flipping through the owner's manual.  There, believe it or not, was a section on headlight bulb replacement.  All I had to do was determine whether it was the high-beam or low-beam bulb and whether it was halogen or xenon.  The manual set out a test designed to answer both questions.  The failed bulb was a halogen, low-beam bulb.

I called NAPA Auto Parts and asked if they had the bulb in stock.  They did and the price was $10.99.  Annie and I unhooked T-Harvey and drove the four miles to NAPA.  I purchased the bulb and installed it in the parking lot.  I flipped the switch and, bingo, the light illuminated.  I was so proud of myself.  I strutted around T-Harvey like a peacock.  I went to the front of T-Harvey, looked at my functioning light, then went back to the driver's door.  I huffed on my fingernails, then rubbed them on my shirt.  I did that three times.  When someone as mechanically inept as I am achieves some modest success, there is no living with him.

I am a fix-it guy!