By this time in my life, the incandescents were definitely taking their revenge upon me. I'm subject to dreams, that despite always being different, have the same theme: I wake up in the middle of the night, flick a light switch...and nothing happens. No lights go on.

From dream to dream the fixtures may change, the location may change and so might the situation. Some of the dreams are very realistic while others are extremely surreal. Some of the locations are representative of the rooms in my present apartment, or past abodes, while others I can't place.

My memory is so corrupted by the countless dreams, that for all I know, it may very well have happened.

I know that my crummy air conditioner, when it's overtaxed and cycling on and off too much, will suddenly refuse to cycle back on. It will keep trying. I'll listen to it sucking in the amps as the fan slows down, then giving up as the compressor fails to get going. When the manufacturer suggested I had a low voltage problem, I couldn't help but think of all those black out dreams.

Incandescent lights are truly an evil force. They are Satanic. Are they not cast in the glowy image of candles, which are used in so many wicked ceremonies? It was many years before I would even eat oranges or drink orange juice. Forget orange soda. I always loved carrots however, so I guess my hatred for the bulbs never really extended to the color that much. I even had a pair of orange jeans. Isn't that hideous? Now that I think of it only the evil emanations from the bare bulbs could lead me to have worn such despicable clothing.

Last one out, please turn out the lights!