A strange but true tale of spontaneous healing.
Man, it’s been warm here the past few days. I’ve been drinking a lot of water, going swimming, and using my fans. Probably running up the electric bill to beat the band. (There’s a strange expression, huh?)
One of my fans was sick. A couple of weeks ago, the fan pictured here stopped working. I took the blade off, tightened it, tried it again, but it would just barely turn on on High and it would just hum on Low or Medium.
Over the weekend, I decided I needed to have this thing – fix it or replace it at the nearest Wal*Mart or Home Depot. So I got it from the closet, cleaned it up and tried it again. Same result. I tried starting at various speeds, then changing speeds, with the oscillator on and off. Moved the head back and forth, raised it up and down. Bupkis. Only one thing to be done – take it to Dad.
My Dad will tell you that he can fix anything, but a broken heart or the crack of dawn. This is undisputed. We plugged it in. Errrr – same as before. Sad, more dead that alive. Dad looked at it, touched it, switched it to High. And off it went. Good as new. I s—t you not, good readers.
Strange, but true.
And a note about the photo: That’s pretty good shutter speed for a digital, using flash. The fan was running when I took that. Stopped the motion cold. Want a cool camera like mine? Here it is.
Metaphor 