Friday, 10 January 2014

Who Turned Off The Effing Lights?

Back in Blessed Blighty but I cant see what the eff I’m doing. Do I qualify for a blind guide dog to help me find my way around the house?
It seems someone has blundered? I cant buy a light bulb that will give me a decent light with which to read a book, write a music score, cook a meal or find any object gone missing since sundown.
Apparently the EU has decreed that light bulbs must be tamed in their emissions to below 100 watts. This is to “Save The Planet”. I am not sure this is best the way to do it. I ride a bike to save the planet and keep my legs fit to whistle at, but I’m being suffocated by traffic fumes wherever I go, and find other riders lit up like animated Christmas trees (batteries still have to be charged) and no sign of an electric car charge point in my neighbourhood if I choose to opt for  a hybrid.
I re-established residence in Blessed Blighty a few months ago but, since then, my French light bulbs have gradually been popping. So I have had to replace them. But whereas the French bulbs will give me up to 140 Watts, I’ll be lucky to get 70 Watts out of the British equivalent.
I suppose I should be reading on a Kindle. But I don’t have one. Despite being a Kindle published author I have not invested in one, preferring something I can read in the bath without risk of electrocution. Do I therefore have to read with a Kandle?
As for cooking, searching for objects or files and other normal tasks of a civilized society after sundown, I am baffled by the problems.
In the supermarket and some other public shopping areas I will find dazzling white light.
But at home, it seems I have to bumble and fumble, write music and find black underwear in some kind of officially acceptable gloaming.
The first light bulbs I bought here in Waitrose turned out to be so feeble that I took them back. With their usual graciousness, Waitrose did this. I later found some slightly stronger ones and at better prices—probably old stock-- in Tesco.
Now I realize I am fighting a losing battle to light up my house, so I am asking my Paris based lover to buy up a few 100 plus watt bulbs and bring them over with the consignment of champagne and the naughty undies on his next trip.
Oh, are you surprised about the French having proper light bulbs? Yes, Paris is still in the EU. But it seems the only country to take seriously and obey the EU edicts about light bulbs is—guess who—the UK. Another one to add to the list of conditions for staying in, David, dear. If you must.
Well all I can say at this point is, that in or out of the EU, I want light bulbs that give me light. Not only that but I want to buy new lams and these seem to allow nothing stronger than 40 watts. Watt? Clearly, I will have to plug in more lamps until I have something resembling a film set with which to get on with my night’s work. The alternative is to spend £200 a time on LED lights that enable me to read without eyestrain.
Who allowed this idiot ruling to pass into law? Blair or Brown, maybe?
Assemble the firing squad asap, if you can find the criminals. And revise the law.
Right now I have plugged in some Christmas lights (350 Watts and French) that I did not use at Christmas, in order to give me enough light with which to find my way to bed.
Welcome back to Blighty—if you can find the door.