Crash Course in Fixing a Lava Lamp

At work, I have a co-worker that's a garage-sale-aholic. She had this lava lamp on her desk that she rescued after being shaken, but it had started turning itself off and she had to bang it to get it to work again. Finally it turned off all together. We were talking, because she had another and I told her I should really get one for my cube, she pointed to the broken one and said "if you can fix it, you can have it." 

So I accepted the challenge. I took the lava lamp back to my desk and on my lunch hour I started messing with it. I found that if i pressed on the bottom, the light would turn back on. So i pulled off the felt and found a bolt, which i then tightened and voila! the lava lamp worked again. The fix took about two minutes total. 

I went over to her and told her i fixed it. This was met with a chorus of NUH UH!s from the group that had been contemplating the broken lava lamp for months. But even though i offered the lava lamp back (It's very pretty, yellow wax with purple water, makes the wax red when it gets towards the top oddly enough), she said i should keep it since we had a bargin. So i had a lava lamp at my desk, much to my enjoyment.

After about a week, I started noticing that the lava lamp would periodically turn off and back on after about a minute. Pretty soon, I was tapping the base, just like she had described. So i took the felt off again and tried to tighten the bolt again, only this time, the whole thing turned off completely and wouldn't turn back on. Whoops. 

Since i wasn't about to give up on this lava lamp, I tried to get inside. When you took out the bulb, there was a golf ball sized hole where you could see the porcelain socket. But the bottom had a steel plate with a hole the size of an eraser head with the bolt coming through and that was it. The base was not designed to come apart. Probably smart on the part of the manufacturer, but very annoying for me. So armed with a needle nose pliers, a small screw driver, a flat staple remover, an unbent paper clip, and a surgical style clamp (like they use in surgery) I began the very tricky task of fixing the lava lamp base.

Once i unscrewed the bolt in the bottom, the socket fell loose and rolled around inside. It was then that i could see that one of the wires had popped completely off the socket. So that was the problem. Ok, I knew how to re-wire a lamp. Somehow, through this golf ball sized hole, i would have to manipulate the socket, screw, and wire all back into their proper places.

It was far from easy. Took me a full lunch hour and a break, significant muttering under my breath, and getting VERY creative with some angles and my tools. The wire wouldn't slide into the base any further, so i had to work inside the tiny cone. Finally,  the wire was looped back around the screw and re-tightened. I put the socket back into place, tightened the bolt, and put the bulb back in. 

The moment of truth, i spun the switch and....nothing. I couldn't understand it. It was still broken! The configuration wasn't that complex, two screws, two wires, and a bolt. After more fiddling after work, the stupid thing still wouldn't work. So i went home for the night. 

It bothered me, as i laid in bed. I thought about how to fix the lava lamp. I knew that the lamps were only about 20$ and this really wasn't worth the effort. But now it was personal. I was going to fix it. 

So as i went about my morning routine and the routine at work, it continued to infest my mind. If i had been smart, i would have put it out of sight, but i had left it in my line of vision where it normally stood. So on my first break, i started fiddling with it again. Checked the bolt, checked the switch, checked the wires, checked that the bulb wasn't burnt out. 

By all reasoning, the lamp should have worked! Maybe the wire was bad, so i followed it, all the way down to the power strip where it was plugged in. 

Inspecting this led to a revelation. The on light on the power strip wasn't on. It couldn't be that easy could it? A short? I flipped it off and back on. No change. I switched the plug to the other one in the pair; still nothing. Finally i moved it over to the other plug i KNEW worked. The power strip lit up, and as i peeked over the edge of my desk and was blinded by the base since it was facing me with the bulb in it. 

Shortly there after, i had re-assembled my pretty lava lamp and the whole thing worked fabulously. My lava lamp is fixed. And with any luck...will stay that way for a change. 

I'm thinking about changing its name from Trippy the Lava Lamp to something a little less polite.

 

Memorial for Shirley

I feel like every time I go to Boyfriend Jon's hometown, it's as detailed as an adventure story. There's so much to do, so much to see, so many stories to be told. I meet roughly 75-100 people each time, maybe a 1/3 of which I've seen before but can't for the life of me remember from where or when.

It doesn't matter; they always seem to remember me as they throw their arms around me and kiss my cheek. None of the 'keep the waists away' kind of hugs. Nope, it's a full body gleeful hug where even our toes bump into each other.

My personal bubble of space can't exist. They clearly don't see it, and they're so genuinely warm and welcoming, that i know that the concept of a personal bubble is completely alien to them. So although i'm overwhelmed, confused, and not sure why this older man whom I've never met is kissing me on the cheek (which is normally grounds for a broken nose in my book), I smile as warmly as i can, and go with it.

Many of them I'm certain they have never set eyes on me before, but they pick me out of the crowd and make a beeline for me. Then they ask about my life, complement me on how pretty i am, and tell Boyfriend Jon that he needs to hold on to this one...she's so perfect for you, you look so good together, so happy.

They put their arms around me and steer me to other people that i need to meet, until my head spins with the sea of faces i'm desperately trying to remember. More hugs, more kisses, have you eaten? when are you two going to settle down? How much is your apartment? How is your mother and father? Does it ever stop raining in Seattle? Pick the toddler nephews up, then immediately put him down, then back up again....and quickly back down after he tells me "i'm pooping right now".

This last weekend, we drove 800 miles each way to be present for the funeral of Boyfriend Jon's grandmother Shirley. I expected such a different scenario than i witnessed. People dressed in everything from full suits, to matching hawaiian shirts, jeans and hoochie-mama makeup. But no one cared about the clothes. They were all there to support each other as they shed tears and remembered Shirley Jones.

Each eulogy showed a different side of her. How she welcomed everyone into her life in such a way that they couldn't help respect and be in awe of her. How even hooligans and trouble makers, referred to her as Mama and wouldn't hesitate to cut her grass if she asked (and sometimes even if she didn't). How she understood that children will be children and how seemingly trivial moments would stay with them forever. How much her culture was important to be passed on. How her family meant EVERYTHING to her.

It wasn't so much a gathering of grieving family as friends as it was a testament that she was an amazing lady and how happy they all were that they had the privilege to know her. Although the tears were flowing freely, there was a release at the end that i don't remember ever feeling at any previous funeral i had ever attended. It was like a great balloon filled with grief suddenly popped and it all dissipated within seconds of the final song. Then the family stood at the front and were hugged by a long line of friends and family. There was food, there was more singing, there was a beautiful hula done by Jon's mother, then there was cleanup, then we went home.

The grief was still there, overlaid by everyday life. We jumped into the pool, swam around with the nephews, threw balls for the dogs, ate pizza, played video games. Then very early the next morning, we made the 800 mile drive home.

I know Boyfriend Jon and his family will never in a million years forget her, but the funeral was a perfect cathartic release. And now, life will move forward for everyone.