When You Assume

A few days ago I decided to make myself some toast and tea as a mid-morning snack.  I put some water into the electric kettle and hit the on button to heat it to a boil.  The bread was one of those artisanal loaves where the ends are so small they would get lost in a traditional toaster.  So I popped them into the toaster oven and went into the study to glance at the newspaper while I waited.  I came back in a few minutes and poured the hot water into my mug and buttered my toast.  When my tea had brewed, I added some sugar and opened the refrigerator door to get some milk.  Damn!  The refrigerator light had burned out.  I realized the fridge was at least 3 years old, and I had never changed its light bulb.  I supposed that I was fortunate to have a bulb last that long.

I figured this was something I could fix in a jiffy. So leaving my toast and tea on the kitchen table, I went down to the basement to look for an appliance bulb.  I opened the closet where I keep various light bulbs and rooted around until I determined that I didn’t have the right type of bulb.  So I trudged upstairs to the kitchen and took a bite of toast and sip of tea.  It seemed that while I was downstairs looking for a light bulb, my tea had gotten lukewarm.  I took another sip and finished one of the rounds of toast.  Then I opened the refrigerator door to take a look at the bulb.  Instead of a bulb, I saw a translucent plastic shield that ran from the back to the front of the fridge and covered the light bulb.  I realized I would have to remove the shield to replace the bulb.  I rearranged the food on the shelf below to give me some room to work.  I examined the shield and gave it a tug.  It moved, but showed no signs of coming loose.  I looked at it closer, but could not determine how to get it off.  I decided that using brute force would be a bad idea.  I could end up having to buy a new shield as well as a light bulb.

 

Since this is a relatively new refrigerator, I had hope that I might still have the owner’s manual.  I took another gulp of my tea which was getting cold and a bite of toast and went to the desk drawer where I thought the manual might be located.  I leafed through manuals for items that we had long since discarded.  But my search for the refrigerator manual was rewarded.  I opened it to the section on replacing the light bulb.  It instructed me to squeeze the sides of the shield and pull downward.  I was a little skeptical, but gave it a try and sure enough, it came off revealing the light bulb.

I was pleased to see that the bulb looked pretty normal.  I figured I should take it to the hardware store to be sure I got the correct replacement.  So I gave it a twist.  The bulb refused to budge.  Was I twisting it the right way?  I gave it a twist in the other direction.  No luck that way either.  Now I became concerned that I would end up breaking the bulb in my efforts to unscrew it.  The last thing I wanted was a cut hand and blood and glass shards to clean up.  I went to get a pair of leather gloves.  I tried again, first one way and then the other.  No luck.  The bulb was horizontal with its base toward the refrigerator door.  I walked into the living room and unscrewed the light bulb from one of the lamps.  O.K.  You turn these things counterclockwise to unscrew them.  I mentally turned the lamp on its side with the light bulb facing away from me to determine which direction was counterclockwise when the bulb was facing away from me.  Jokes started popping into my head:  “How many retirees does it take to change a light bulb?”  I went back to the kitchen and downed the dregs of my now cold tea and limp toast.  I opened the door and grasped the bulb with my gloved hand.  I gave it a gentle but firm twist in the direction I determined to be correct.  I felt it give a little.  I tried again with a little more pressure and it began to unscrew.

 

“Success!” I shouted as I unscrewed the bulb and pulled it out of the refrigerator.

 

I realized that to be efficient, I should run a number of other errands besides going to the hardware store for a new bulb.  So I gathered a few things together, put the bulb in a bag to protect it and got ready to leave the house.  It occurred to me that with the distraction of the burned out light bulb, I never did get a chance to enjoy a nice hot cup of tea.  So what would be the harm of making myself another cup?  I could put it in a travel mug and take it with me.  So I put more water in the kettle and flipped the button to start the kettle.  I noticed the light on the kettle did not come on.  A light bulb clicked on – the one in my mind.  I realized that running the tea kettle and toaster oven at the same time had tripped a breaker, and the refrigerator was probably on that same breaker.  I went downstairs, opened the breaker box and saw that one of the breakers had switched off.  I turned it on and walked back upstairs.

I was greeted by the sound of the refrigerator’s motor.  I screwed the light bulb back in and it lit up.  All told, I had probably wasted a half hour solving a problem that didn’t exist.  That might qualify me to be a politician, but certainly not an efficiency expert.  I made a note to pass this experience on to my son, Michael, who gives brief lessons on efficiency in his MichaelMinutes on Facebook.  I figured this could be a lesson in what not to do.

I recalled that old adage, “When you assume, you make an ASS out of U and ME.”  I had assumed that when the light didn’t turn on, it meant the bulb was burned out.  Once I had made that incorrect assumption, I ignored all the other clues – the tea that was never piping hot, the toast that wasn’t quite toasted, the fact that the refrigerator never turned on while I was trying to get the light bulb out.  I’d like to think I learned from this experience and that the next time I’m confronted with a problem, I will test my assumptions and consider all the possibilities – including the possibility that pigs have learned to fly.