Fun With Electricity, Part II

I made arrangements for Dave to come by one evening at 6, allowing me to pick up Sarah at school and still come home to see what it was afflicting our light.  He was right there at the hour, and after some getting caught up, we took a look at the offending light fixture.

He asked if the 60w bulb I had was the one that was in it; I said yes but it was a new bulb and I knew it worked because I'd tried it in another socket.  I screwed it into the kitchen light socket and then Dave flipped the switch.

The sink was immediately flooded with light.

"Oh, come ON!" I shouted.  "Come ON!  This isn't funny," I wailed, as my friend and electrician smiled slightly.  I flipped the switch on and off a few times for good measure; each time, the light responded as it should.

Dave patiently explained that the recessed light fixtures all have a thermostat, and when heat builds up (yes, we leave that light on overnight), it will eventually shut down and need to cool itself before it will work again.  A swirly-bulb will help since it doesn't throw as much heat, but really, that's about it.  He shouldered his bag again (never really opened it), and refused payment for his time ("took me longer to get here than anything I did here," he said), so I gave him one of David's football team's discount cards instead.  A few more "You have GOT to be kidding me"s and he was gone.

I am not mechanically inclined; electricity and I don't mix.  And yet I'm still enough of a "guy" to really, r-e-a-l-l-y not like having to call another guy over to do something I "should" know how to do.  I know I have to call someone when the furnace isn't working right; that's beyond what a "guy" ought to know how to fix.  But common plumbing problems, or basic wiring, it's hard enough to swallow what little pride I have and make the call to get some other guy over here to do my work.  And now, in that most classic of ironies, the problem has completely gone away by the time the other guy shows up.

Again, all I can say is it's a mercy to have an electrician who's also a friend and who, apart from some ribbing tonight at Bible study, probably won't mention it again.  I know him well enough that on returning home that night, he probably just told Krystal that "oh, it was pretty simple, no big deal" and didn't regale her, in full laughter, with my electrical humiliation.  And for that, more than his advice about recessed-lighting thermostat capabilities, I'm more than grateful.