The working light fixture demands respect. And we give it, wholeheartedly. We commend the job it does, swiftly, silently and–to our Stone Age comprehension of modern convenience–magically. Flick a switch: Light happens.
We repay this service with awe, gratitude and timely installments, siphoned directly from checking to ComEd. We do not stint on fresh bulbs, nor on the attentions of the fluffy duster-on-a-stick. We like a clean, well-lighted place.
And yet, insurrection crackles. Some, but not all, of the household light fixtures have declared a strike. Or perhaps a work slowdown. The terms are somewhat dim. As best we can interpret through their rep–the bedroom ceiling fixture–they agree to work only when they feel like it.
Not in the morning, during prime dressing hours, nor the evening, popular reading hours. Nor any other time the wall-mounted toggle switch is adjusted to the “up” position, commonly known as “on.” However, the light will agree to do its duty on occasion, particularly if the occasion is 4 a.m., and The Man–or The Woman–is asleep.
Even the intervention of a negotiator in good standing with the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers, Local 134, has not budged the fixtures from this fixed position.
The trouble, no doubt, can be traced to the cut-rate floor lamps. Weak, wobbly, yellow-bellied slackers. Forty-watt bulbs, max. We tightened their set screws, twisted their swing arms. But they must have passed around their gripes. Who knows what goes on behind closed walls. Soon the halogen pendants and the sconces and the under-cabinets started flickering in solidarity. Now we’ve got complete, intermittent work stoppage, and no terms on the table.
Indeed, that is the curious part of this strike. The sticking point is not hours, which all agree are reasonable. Just a few early and late, plus some overtime on weekends and holidays. Nor is the problem wages. Payroll, made out in kilowatt hours, is always current. Nor is it working conditions. Though we expect the night-light to pull a late shift and the porch light to work outdoors, management provides adequate safety protection, including glass globes and code-compliant wiring.
The issue is autonomy. Members of the newly formed Illuminators United are tired of being told what to do and when to do it. They want to turn on when so moved. And stay off at random. They want freedom from the great electrical matrix and the whims of capricious homeowners. Not to mention their switch-happy children. They want the dignity of work, without the indignity of being on call.
We find these demands unreasonable. Non-negotiable. And though we long for a round of “Which Side Are You On?” we have instead made contact with a supply of flashlights willing to cross the line. Each comes with a reliable push button. Works off the grid. And–hear this–is fully disposable.
