Saturday, March 22, 2014

Lights that Go Flash in the Night

Sunday night we enjoyed watching again the first Christian movie I ever attended as a teenager. The film ended as usual with Richard Burton and Jean Simmons holding hands and walking to their execution as white, fluffy clouds surrounded them. “The Robe” played at my junior high school auditorium in 1954.
On that inspiring note near midnight, we dropped the Roman shades in our bedroom, turned off the lights and got cozy and comfortable under the blankets. With eyes closed, we laid close together on the verge of entering dreamland, one step away from unconsciousness.
Suddenly, I opened my eyes. “Did you see that flash of light?”
“Yes, I did!”
Ten minutes later. “Did you see it again?”
“Yes, I did!”
“Did you hear any thunder?”
“I think thunder always follows lightning.”
“Let's keep our eyes open.”
Our sleepy eyes refused to stay at attention and we drifted off again.
Closet mirrors line one long wall in our bedroom. Fifteen minutes later through closed eye lids, we saw a flash of light fill the bedroom once again. After the fourth episode, Craig investigated the front, back and side yards, but found nothing suspicious. I suggested he sleep in the library that adjourns our bedroom and wait for the light to appear again. Before he could enter the library and sit down, a bright flash exploded, but this time accompanied by loud popping and snapping noises.
I sat upright in bed. “Oh my goodness! I see an electrical problem!”
No, China has the problem and gave it to America! Now our government insists we buy those tubular light blubs that hiss at you while you sit in the library, minding your own business reading your favorite book.
President Bush gets the blame for this decision. I wonder if I'm responsible to tell him the light, with the switch off, comes on repeatedly before China's bulb blows up and creates a mental emergency for the elderly.
Sure glad I went to Jerry's a couple months ago and purchased twenty-years supply of good old Mr. Edison. My sons will groan when they inherit these efficient antiques.
Happy Springtime!

Happy Birthdays, Joyce and Margaret!