That was the beauty of them; simplicity. You screwed them into a socket, flipped a switch, and, bink, the light went on. Now, you need a degree in electrical engineering just to identify the proper bulb. Is it for a refrigerator, a ceiling fan, a mirror, a flashlight? Indoor, outdoor? Do you want energy-efficient, soft light, halogen, fluorescent? Dimmable, perhaps? Compact or standard?
There are stores now, chains of them, dedicated solely to the sale of light bulbs. That’s nuts. I feel as if I’m fighting the forces of darkness alone and unarmed.
I bought a lamp for my desk recently. The procedure required 10 minutes. I went to Target, located the aisle with desk lamps, selected one, and bought it. Pleased with my decision, I took it home and discovered I had no 40 watt bulbs.
The hunt for one — for a plain, basic light bulb –took 45 minutes and covered 3 aisles of merchandise. It wasn’t a shopping trip, it was a test of endurance. I stood there nonplussed and overwhelmed, baffled at the vast array of choices. I only needed one damn bulb. One. The smallest quantity I could find after digging and scrounging and rummaging was a pack of eight.
Who needs another unnecessary headache? Not me. So forget the bulbs. Next time I’ll buy a different lamp — nert nert nert.