My bedside lamp needed brightening up. For years, I’ve been reading in the shadows, as if by candlelight. We are an energy-conscious family so our house is packed with compact light bulbs. If I’m smarter than a new-age light bulb, I switch on the lamp while I brush my teeth so the lamp is good and warmed up before I hop into the sheets with my book. It helps, but I still feel like a pioneer even if I wear spectacles. I struggle to read, wishing the print were darker or two candles stronger.

I asked my hubby to get me a brighter bulb. I think he was going to the hardware store anyway, and he seems to know about these new-fangled, energy-saving bulbs. I believed he would get the perfect one in one trip. No such luck, it was too big. He promised he would get it right the next time.

Months go by without any sight of new light and no next time. My eyes are fading with the faded bulb. I’m inspired by a new lamp purchase for the living room. It came with an energy-saving bulb and it was powerful. The whole room lit up like a stadium from just one bulb. It felt liberating and inviting. I wanted that kind of muscle-bulb in my bedroom.

Mighty me plucked the dingy bulb from my lamp and headed to Ace Hardware. “Let’s be smart about this,” I strategized. I was not going to make a bunch of trips. “I’m bringing evidence.” Floyd from Ace helped me pick out the perfect bulb. He called me young lady so I was sure he was the right helpful hardware man for the job. He’s probably a great-grandpa and been around the block with light bulbs. We picked a long-life, double-wattage compact bulb. He also explained the money-back guarantee. “You have to save the receipt for NINE years if you want your money back in case of failure,” he says with an eye roll. He wasn’t born yesterday. Floyd took my old one to dispose of it as I told him I never want to see that drab thing again. I’m so excited to get a lamp lit like it uses electricity.

I go to work immediately at home. I try to position the bulb so it screws in and it’s too something to fit. Rats. I remove the lampshade to get it to fit properly. The bulb still won’t screw down. It’s fat, as in fat, fat, water rat! And double rats! I think I got the same bulb as my husband, with professional assistance. It’s back to Floyd from Ace.

I found my friend Floyd. He asked if I had the old bulb. “No, I left that one with you. But I brought the bulb from my husband’s side of the bed.” Floyd chuckled, recognizing the risk I took to get it right without saying a thing. The guy gets it. He discovered the problem right away. “Oh, the thingamajig is too tall.” I knew immediately what he was talking about, the base of the bulb, the thingamajig. Floyd really knows how to relate. The brighter the bulb, the bigger the motor; it was just too much to fit the lamp. I got a brilliant idea. (Clever.) “Can’t I just get a bulb like this one? No curly glass or thingamajig? “Oh that! Well that’s just an old-fashioned light bulb. Course it has a thingy inside to save energy, but you don’t need to know about it. It’s just an old-fashioned light bulb.”

Well, I know a light bulb when I see it. I’m older than compact bulbs and last longer too. And this old-fashioned bulb, I might have to replace it more than once every nine years but it costs less than $10. And this one turns on in a FLASH, no waiting, as if that is news. And guess what, the thingamajig is SKINNY and fits ANY lamp! Genius! A light bulb moment! And you know what I say, “Let there be light!” That’s been done before too, just not in my bedroom.

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