Head Lamps

I love flashlights. The brighter the better, and most particularly, I am crazy about head lamps. If this gives you some sense of how deep that love runs, I get some kind of a head lamp every Christmas.  We have a minimum of ten in our house this very minute. I give them as gifts too, secure in the belief that everyone loves them just as much as I do.  This year I gave  solar flashlights you can charge your phone with. Our son Jake was underwhelmed.   Me: Honey, isn't that flashlight amazing? Jake:  Mom, you gave me one last year too. Me: What's your point? I enjoy talking flashlights with fellow flashlight lovers and  if somebody whips out a bigger/better flashlight, I hyperventilate. I love cowboy boots more, but still.  

 Anybody can operate a flashlight, but head lamps not so much. That might sound crazy  and you could be right. I went to college for seven years for whatever that’s worth.  You'd might be thinking that would confer I came out with certain basic life skills, or you might be thinking just the opposite.  

I almost blinded myself with my first head lamp. Pat gave me one for Christmas and I was so excited to have my very own. I strapped it to my head that night as I went down to the barn to feed.  Apparently you’re not supposed to turn them on while driving as I immediately (and fortunately, temporarily) blinded myself when I gazed admiringly into the rear view mirror of the truck. I still see spots.

After my vision came back, I loaded up the hay and headed to the horses. All six stood along the fence waiting like they were in a witness line up.  I methodically blinded each of them as I waved my head around like an extra-terrestrial being trying to say hello. They snorted and stood back from the fence trying to figure out what the hell was happening.  They finally took some deep breaths when they heard my voice from behind the bright light and a few more so when they saw the hay. They skittered around but gamely came back to the fence to give this weirdness a chance. I appreciated their willingness to work with this new deal.  I dropped the trust ball when I stumbled and hit the electric fence; causing me to scream and throw the hay at them like I’d stuck a knife in an outlet. Which I guess I had, kind of. They had bits of hay hanging from their manes as they took off in a six horse stampede into the night.

The next week my friend LJ came over to ride.  She's pretty darn outdoorsy and I knew she would be as excited about my new head lamp as I was. I was reenacting my first headlamp debacle, complete with narration and arm waving. I  tripped and hit the fence again, screaming and throwing hay at the horses for the second time. By then they'd had enough of my head lamp shenanigans.

Perhaps because of my rookie moves with head lamps, Pat bought me a hat with LED lights this Christmas. He showed me how easy it was to work; you just feel for the little on/off button in the back and push it. Easy. Except I couldn’t seem to make it turn on as easily as he had so I took it off my head, turned it around to look for the button and blinded myself. Again.

 I like to think I’m fairly competent, but I'm starting to have my doubts. Last night as I was putting away all the head lamps, flashlights, and LED hats scattered around our house I dropped the LED reading light Pat had given me for Christmas, accidently stepped on it, and yep. Blinded myself again. I’m still seeing spots but I just can’t stay away. 

He'd also bought me a head lamp that's so bright you could drive down the road just fine with your truck lights off and only your head stuck out the window.  Should you ever need to do that sort of thing.  It's that kind of amazing.  With my track record it's been (semi-)helpfully suggested that I work my way up to this one. Until I can show I have full control of a head lamp, it seems I'm operating on a learner's permit.