August 1, 2018 by phicks2012
I recently, and belatedly, decided to de-clutter my home office — a task that was incredibly overdue even last year, and simply hadn’t pushed its way to the front of the SBPO (Shouldn’t Be Put Off) List.
My baseboards were lined with crates of miscellaneous knicknacks, colored copy paper, art supplies, books, files, and pretty much inaccessible cat hair, and a I just about needed a Grabber to reach some of my window sills.
I’d been wanting, for some time, to get rid of the no-longer-functional dinosaur of a copy machine taking up one whole wall section and enough space to accommodate a love seat or an average-sized horse, and to bring a long unused recliner up from “basement oblivion” to take it’s place — in a spacial sense, of course, because my recliner doesn’t make copies — but then of course neither, at this point, did my copier.
In any case, two weekends back seemed to be a convenient time to roll the Savin corpse out into the hallway (where it was destined to wait until, it could be loaded onto a trailer and taken to the Landfill Mortuary), and to wrestle the recliner into the now functional lift for transport upward.
It’s astonishing how much motivation can resurface when you actually have floor space to work with. I started at the door and began to work my way clockwise, doing rather well until I reached the first wall angle and came upon the torchiere lamp sitting there.
The plan was to replace the incandescent bulb therein with an energy-efficient LED, and clear out the quarter inch of dust that had built up over time inside the semi-spherical (this wasn’t one of those fancy-shmancy torchieres like my other one) globe. The globe on my “nice torchiere” is a Tiffany-style globe secured in place with screws, but this one was just sort of sitting there being held in place only because the hole in it was smaller than the round part of the light bulb. Once the bulb was out and I went to wipe the dust out, I quickly discovered my mistake, because as soon as I tilted the lamp the globe fell crashing to the floor where it shattered into hundreds of annoyingly sharp pointy pieces.
Other than feeling like a total fool, however, I thought this a minor matter. After all, you can practically buy that sort of lamp on street corners. Everybody sells them, so obviously replacement globes should be easy to find, right? Wrong.
Googling for the things sent me to dozens of web sites where just about every other style of lamp-shade or globe (except this one) could be found. When I did manage to find something that “might” have worked, I couldn’t really tell because there was insufficient information, and when I called the businesses or tried their on-line chats I invariably got agents named “Bob” or “Susie” whose grasp of English was fragmentary at best and who therefore could not understand what I was looking for. They probably thought I was in the market for a Volvo.
I did find “some” replacement globes on-line, mind you, but they were nearly as expensive as a new lamp (even though they were nothing all that fancy, and I still couldn’t be sure they would fit).
I wound up, eventually, measuring the area around the bulb socket, going to Lowe’s, and picking up an $8 alabaster tulip globe for a chandelier. Not nearly as large as what broke, but serviceable. Then I went on-line and purchased another lamp with a Tiffany globe that had a pole and base identical to my “nice lamp” Cool! But I should have waited, because after ordering that I browsed further, and to my utter amazement found another lamp (for $20 less) that was absolutely identical to my other Tiffany-style torchiere — one that I’ve had for probably at least 15 years.
Things go “out-of-style” so quickly these days that a week after you buy something you can never find another thing like it, so what, after all, were the chances I’d be able to match a lamp over a decade old? I’d have bet serious cash against that, despite the fact that I was switching out light bulbs to save money.
I might still get that lamp, but in the meanwhile I’ve worked my way more than halfway around the office now, and the difference is gratifying, to say the least! Old (like “really” old) tax papers are on their way up to the attic, catalogs and magazines from the distant past have met with Mr. Trashcan, and my book shelves no longer look QUITE as much like a heraldic landfill (and for those of you who notice my Magic 8-Ball, I do not use that to make heraldic judgments). Whole stretches of baseboard are actually visible, and I have only about ten feet of wall to go! Congratulate Me!!!!
Of course, there are now still a few crates in the hall awaiting transport to the attic, to the basement, or to my bedroom, but I guess you can’t have everything, right?