They’re ugly and utilitarian and surely belong in a factory somewhere, not by my bed. But I’m getting tired of tipping the shade on the old table lamp. I got that one years ago, and it’s kind of cute there on the nightstand, but the light falls a good two feet away from the printed page when I snuggle in to read myself to sleep. I’ve found that I can tilt the shade, and on a good night it will stick at the right angle to shine where it’s needed. It looks a little silly, but what can you do when you need to read?
So, I saw the ad yesterday, POWER HOURS SALE! This is not to be confused with the SUPER SAVER SALE at the same store a couple of days back The new one was good only Friday afternoon and Saturday morning, and consisted of no more than 80% duplication of what was offered at lowest prices ever during those last SUPER SAVER days. At any rate, I saw these lamps, tall, gangly things with extendable arms that appeared to be perfect for swinging over the bed so that I could take full advantage of the negligible-watt bulb without tipping the shade and coaxing it to stay in some unnatural position.
I bought two of the things. When I got home I found that I had gotten even a bigger discount than the store had indicated in the ad. Rather than trek back to interrogate the cashier, I decided to accept it as a Senior Discount (to which I am fully entitled) and patted myself on my arthritic back for making such a good deal.
While I struggled to assemble a few words of my latest short story, hubby assembled one of the lamps for me without even looking at the full page of instructions. It wasn’t too difficult, because the pieces were attached by virtue of the line cord that ran through the tubes. Twist bottom section of pole into the base, twist second section (which could only possibly fit one way without removing the cord) into the first, twist third portion into the second. Since all that was left was the top arm. he finished without any problems. I have more trouble making toast, which at least requires me to decide which edge of the bread will fit into the slot.
After my bath, I slid my pajama-clad self between the sheets, adjusted my pillow to the proper plumpness, found that the light was absolutely perfect . . . and fell asleep before I got three pages into the book.
I’ll see you again, after the commercial.