Minor Repairs

One more observation about Yoga -- it's really hard to learn how to do it from watching TV: Most of the poses have your head facing somewhere other than at the screen -- so until you know what they're talking about, you can't do the stuff and watch at the same time.

I suppose the same problem could exist in learning almost any physical movement, but it's particularly annoying when they're using terms you don't know. "Assume the 'disgruntled monk' pose and then gently sweep toward 'incontinent grasshopper'. End in the restful 'praying lemur'. What???

I'll get it. Eventually. But so far my most frequent pose seems to be "crumpled klutz". (Good thing I moved the furniture out of the way, eh?)

Regardless of my struggles with yesterday's exercise, though, I did accomplish a couple of important things. For the first, I decided to leave work early to take my car in to get my burnt-out headlight replaced. While I am perfectly capable of replacing a light bulb in the kitchen or bathroom, I had given up on car headlights after spending a couple of frustrating hours once trying to figure out how to even access the bulb inside its magically-sealed compartment. So I took the car to WalMart's automotive center. And while I'm there, I thought, why not get my oil changed as well?

I dropped off my keys at the Auto desk, and then spent the next hour walking brisk laps around the store as I waited for the technicians to finish. I am not much of a shopper, so usually when I go to a store I try to make the trip as precise as possible; go directly to the aisle I need, pick up the required item, and boogie for the self-checkout. But with nothing to buy, I was able to really absorb the atmosphere of the place, and do plenty of people-watching.

The first thing I noticed was that some shoppers are indeed very focused, very intense. They know what they want and they are on a laser-beam path to collect and scoot. Others seems to be entranced by each display, and spend their time in an almost-meditative trance as they lovingly caress each and every decorative wicker basket, surge protector, or box of rat poison. Some become so worn out by their shopping ordeal that they have to sit and rest for a while. (I had never before noticed that the store had park benches for just such a purpose. And they're probably beefier benches that you'd find in an outdoor park, because my observations would suggest that your average WalMart patron tends toward Shamu-ish proportions.)

One scruffy fellow wore the trenchcoat and demented look of a perv or stalker, and seemed to be inordinately interested in the chicken breasts. But I finally figured out that rather than being a stalker, he was indeed a stocker, and was counting the packages for inventory purposes. He eventually went into the back and came out with a cartful of fresh products to stack in the refrigerated bin. I guess the trenchcoat was to keep him comfy when he was back in the freezer.

Still, dude, that Don Johnson/George Michael stubble thing went out of style a decade ago. And there's also this marvelous new invention you might want to try -- it's called a "comb"...

Then there was the kid who let out random shrieks every fifteen seconds or so. I never actually saw where the child was, so I was unable to tell if these ear-piercing outbursts were the results of some unfortunate genetic defect (ie, Tourette's or something), or merely the outcome of egregiously poor parenting and lack of discipline. Nor could I tell if the bored and listless looks worn by the department clerks were the result of being shagged out near the end of a rough shift, or merely the default expression of honest-to-goodness boring and listless people.

Anyway, after about a hundred laps around the store, my car was finished. I paid the bill and went out into the snow to head home. I thought I ought to check the headlight first, just to be sure. And whaddaya know? It didn't work. Apparently, the idea of checking the repair to verify its success did not occur to the technician who did the job.

He was a pleasant fellow, though, and cheerfully followed me out to the parking lot to troubleshoot the repair. After a few minutes of investigation, he concluded that there were actually TWO separate bulbs in the headlight assembly, and he had replaced the wrong one. (I'll confess that I was also surprised by this -- I assumed that it was a two-filament single bulb. But then again, I'm not the one who is being paid to know about such stuff.) I'll give him credit for having a sense of humor about it though...he actually said "Well, that's what you get for doing your automotive repairs at WalMart."

The good news is that I was able to watch the process, and now know how to release the mystical casing that houses the headlight bulbs. So if I ever have another light burn out, I should be able to do the repair myself. The other good news is that the falling snow was beautiful, and I enjoyed watching it waft down onto the car as the dude burrowed around under the hood. The bottom line is that I did get the repair done for a cheap price, and was able to enjoy a relaxing and contemplative afternoon. I went home in a good mood.

I'll talk about my other recent "repair" experience in an upcoming post. In the meantime, I'd recomment that you take some time out of your next shopping trip to watch the people...and take some time to watch the flakes fall the next time you're out in a snowstorm. It's good to occasionally take a break from being focused on the task at hand, isn't it? Sometimes, just watching what's going on around you is a pretty good way to have a great day! More later, my friends.