That - it turns out - is the number of architects required to change a light bulb.
Not just any light bulb; one of those inset downlighter spotlight doohickeys in the shower room. Corrina went to change it as the caretaker is on leave and found there was no obvious way of getting the darned thing out of the ceiling.
So … four of us turned to the interweb and a six minute video of a large gentleman from the southern states of the Colonies whose painfully slow-drawled accent we adopted for the task ("un-cullee-up thuh spuh-ree-ung" etc.) .
Armed with a stepladder and a laptop showing the video, the gallant quartet donned hard hats and fluorescent tabards and managed to follow the precise instructions to … er … wriggle and wrench the thing out of the ceiling.
At which point the "spuh-ree-ung" unsprung itself at a rate of knots, spraying the room with small pieces of plastic and metal and eliciting a satisfying scream from Corrina.
Yet more "spuh-ree-ung cullee-ups" held the bulb into a plastic "ree-ung" which required the quartet to take turns at wrenching and swearing until eventually it all came apart.
The new bulb was a doddle to plug in. What was not a doddle was assembling the divers small plastic parts and "spuh-ree-ung cullee-ups" into something resembling a light fitting. The man in the video had failed to mention the inherent explosive qualities of the thing and its eagerness to violently disassemble itself. He offered no help in putting it all back together again. Humpty-Dumpty was nothing in comparison.
And so … several minutes later and after successive abortive design attempts we somehow managed to manufacture something that (a) looked like a light fitting, and (b) contained all the parts collected from around the room.
Getting it back into the ceiling was entertaining in that the "spuh-ree-ung cullee-ups" acted much like mousetraps, snapping shut on any fingers attempting to manœuvre the thing into position.
Cue divers alarums and some imaginative profanity.
We now - at last - have a working light in the shower room - whoop-de-doo - but have decided that when the next one goes we shall wait for the caretaker to get back from his holiday rather than attempt such a monstrous task ourselves.
Not just any light bulb; one of those inset downlighter spotlight doohickeys in the shower room. Corrina went to change it as the caretaker is on leave and found there was no obvious way of getting the darned thing out of the ceiling.
So … four of us turned to the interweb and a six minute video of a large gentleman from the southern states of the Colonies whose painfully slow-drawled accent we adopted for the task ("un-cullee-up thuh spuh-ree-ung" etc.) .
Armed with a stepladder and a laptop showing the video, the gallant quartet donned hard hats and fluorescent tabards and managed to follow the precise instructions to … er … wriggle and wrench the thing out of the ceiling.
At which point the "spuh-ree-ung" unsprung itself at a rate of knots, spraying the room with small pieces of plastic and metal and eliciting a satisfying scream from Corrina.
Yet more "spuh-ree-ung cullee-ups" held the bulb into a plastic "ree-ung" which required the quartet to take turns at wrenching and swearing until eventually it all came apart.
The new bulb was a doddle to plug in. What was not a doddle was assembling the divers small plastic parts and "spuh-ree-ung cullee-ups" into something resembling a light fitting. The man in the video had failed to mention the inherent explosive qualities of the thing and its eagerness to violently disassemble itself. He offered no help in putting it all back together again. Humpty-Dumpty was nothing in comparison.
And so … several minutes later and after successive abortive design attempts we somehow managed to manufacture something that (a) looked like a light fitting, and (b) contained all the parts collected from around the room.
Getting it back into the ceiling was entertaining in that the "spuh-ree-ung cullee-ups" acted much like mousetraps, snapping shut on any fingers attempting to manœuvre the thing into position.
Cue divers alarums and some imaginative profanity.
We now - at last - have a working light in the shower room - whoop-de-doo - but have decided that when the next one goes we shall wait for the caretaker to get back from his holiday rather than attempt such a monstrous task ourselves.
Downlighter spotlights? Fuck 'em!
5 comments:
Only you could make an entertaining story out of changing a light bulb.
Ha ha that sounds so funny, but not for those folk who have down lighters…nice to know you can entertain with just the fitting of a light bulb…
Thank you, Petrea; you are too kind.
Mercifully - as mum knows - my house is too old-fashioned to have downlighters. Candles are about my tech level.
Haha! Well told! But I do empathize. There are so many ghastly "teplacement calisthenics" we have to go through today just to replace something simple....
Simple is good, Ms.M. I should know as I'm pretty simple.
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