Damn, It's Good To Be A Handyman
My older son's autistic obsession is lights and fans. His room had an annoying fan that made a lot of noise, so he's had his eye on this $130 rocket ship ceiling fan at a local home-improvement store.
Last Sunday, the store's circular, delivered to me with the award-winning Beaumont Enterprise, advertised a decent ceiling fan on sale for $59. It has a REMOTE, so I gave Curt the choice between the rocket ship and the one with the remote, and he was all over the remote.
"I want THAT fan," he said.
So I bought it last Sunday and engaged in installation Wednesday, a perfect rainy-day project.
I think it took more than three hours, maybe four. It's all a blur.
Just for a silly ceiling fan.
I got the old fan off with no problem and the base for the new one installed with no problems ... until I got the whole thing assembled and realized that the blue wire was was supposed to go with the black wire, not the white one.
Had I flipped the switch, I might have gotten an unforgettable Fourth of July show.
So I had to take off a fan blade so I could hang the whole thing on this handy-dandy little nobby thing on the fan base. I hooked up the fan again, turned on the breaker and hit the switch, and the light and fan came on just fine.
However, the remote didn't work. The remote had to work.
It was then that I realized that I'd forgotten to install the receptor in there, so I had to go back and take down the whole shootin' match. Getting the wires all hooked up with the cumbersome, almost fully put together fan was challenging.
But, by golly, I did it.
However, while the remote then worked, I couldn't get the fan to change speeds or operate independently of the light. The fan had to change speeds and the light needed to work separately.
Meanwhile, Curt frequently chirped at me from downstairs:
"Daddy, are you done with the fan yet?"
"NO!"
"Daddy, does the fan work?"
"NO!"
"Daddy, can I come see the fan?"
"NO!"
"Daddy, are you done yet?"
(Silence)
"Daddy, YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"
So I went through the whole de-assemble thing again to discover that the blue wires needed to be hooked together independently and not to the black wires. By this time, half the screws are stripped. My wife has managed to paint an entire room, and the paint is dry.
And it's waaaaaaaaaaay past BEER:30 p.m.
But, by cracky, the fan works fine now, and Curt is happy as a clam. Last night, the storm scared him and he came into our bedroom. He turned down an offer to climb in bed, saying he needed to go back and stay with his fan.
We weren't sure whether he was protecting his fan, or his fan was protecting him. Either way, they seem to be a couple now.
This weekend, I plan to fix the buckled laminant flooring (the product of the previous owner's never ending supply of pathetic, shoddy worksmanship) in the dining room AND replace a seal on my car's air conditioner compressor.
If you don't see another blog entry for a while, send money on behalf of me to the charity of your choice.
Last Sunday, the store's circular, delivered to me with the award-winning Beaumont Enterprise, advertised a decent ceiling fan on sale for $59. It has a REMOTE, so I gave Curt the choice between the rocket ship and the one with the remote, and he was all over the remote.
"I want THAT fan," he said.
So I bought it last Sunday and engaged in installation Wednesday, a perfect rainy-day project.
I think it took more than three hours, maybe four. It's all a blur.
Just for a silly ceiling fan.
I got the old fan off with no problem and the base for the new one installed with no problems ... until I got the whole thing assembled and realized that the blue wire was was supposed to go with the black wire, not the white one.
Had I flipped the switch, I might have gotten an unforgettable Fourth of July show.
So I had to take off a fan blade so I could hang the whole thing on this handy-dandy little nobby thing on the fan base. I hooked up the fan again, turned on the breaker and hit the switch, and the light and fan came on just fine.
However, the remote didn't work. The remote had to work.
It was then that I realized that I'd forgotten to install the receptor in there, so I had to go back and take down the whole shootin' match. Getting the wires all hooked up with the cumbersome, almost fully put together fan was challenging.
But, by golly, I did it.
However, while the remote then worked, I couldn't get the fan to change speeds or operate independently of the light. The fan had to change speeds and the light needed to work separately.
Meanwhile, Curt frequently chirped at me from downstairs:
"Daddy, are you done with the fan yet?"
"NO!"
"Daddy, does the fan work?"
"NO!"
"Daddy, can I come see the fan?"
"NO!"
"Daddy, are you done yet?"
(Silence)
"Daddy, YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"
So I went through the whole de-assemble thing again to discover that the blue wires needed to be hooked together independently and not to the black wires. By this time, half the screws are stripped. My wife has managed to paint an entire room, and the paint is dry.
And it's waaaaaaaaaaay past BEER:30 p.m.
But, by cracky, the fan works fine now, and Curt is happy as a clam. Last night, the storm scared him and he came into our bedroom. He turned down an offer to climb in bed, saying he needed to go back and stay with his fan.
We weren't sure whether he was protecting his fan, or his fan was protecting him. Either way, they seem to be a couple now.
This weekend, I plan to fix the buckled laminant flooring (the product of the previous owner's never ending supply of pathetic, shoddy worksmanship) in the dining room AND replace a seal on my car's air conditioner compressor.
If you don't see another blog entry for a while, send money on behalf of me to the charity of your choice.
posted by Brian Pearson at 2:16 PM
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