On stepstools
The other day the bulb in the overhead light in my kitchen burned out. I had one of those long-life ones in there, so it had been years since I had needed to change it. Now, however, it was necessary, and because the fixture is fairly high I had to get a stepstool.
That shouldn’t have been a problem. After all, I’ve got three of them, even though my place is rather small. One is a conventional one-rung stepstool that I keep in my kitchen. The second is a two-rung affair that resides in a closet in the bedroom. The third – well, I’ll get to that in a moment.
Standing on the first stepstool, I found I had to really stretch and stretch to reach that bulb. I also found that – now that I’m no longer twenty years old – I felt a bit less stable doing this than in earlier years. But although I managed to finally get that bulb out, I couldn’t quite get the new one in. The fixture kept swinging and eluded my attempts, and I realized I had to get up high enough to hold onto the side of it with one hand while I screwed the bulb in with the other.
Enter stepstool number two, the one with two rungs and a little bar on top to hold onto. I got that one out of the bedroom closet and lugged it to the kitchen. But there I discovered that I wasn’t quite high enough and also that, if I held onto the bar for stability, I still had the swinging fixture problem.
Then there was the third stepstool. That was the one I had trouble finding; I hadn’t used it in years, and it was larger. I knew it probably was in one of the closets, but they are pretty well jammed with stuff and I just couldn’t see it, even with a flashlight.
That stepstool looks like this. Note how tall. Note the high bar. A great stepstool indeed – and it was the first gift Gerard ever gave me.
Yes, an odd gift. But Gerard was no dummy; he knew what he was doing. This gift came to me in January of 2006, when he and I were somewhat acquainted but were not yet romantically involved. I had written this post about a difficult day I’d had full of petty annoyances, and it included the following:
Oh, actually, today wasn’t so bad. It’s just that when I was about to start working on today’s post at my computer, the power went out.
… Oh, right, the toilet will only have one flush in it – I forget why, but something to do with a pump. And in the winter, the cold starts seeping in within minutes, reminding me that lingering around the house would not be a good thing. The computer, the post? Fagettabout it. Time to leave and go about the other business of the day.
Ah yes, time to leave. Leave. And then I remember: that wonderfully convenient electric garage door opener has to be disabled. Now, how do I do that, again? Each time it happens, I have to learn anew–get out the manual and the flashlight (even though the day was young, it was so dark a flashlight was needed to read the diagrams).
Then, out to the garage. Piece of cake. Just pull that red lever dangling from a rope on the ceiling, and then lift the garage door manually, the old-fashioned way. But the red lever is just an inch out of my reach, even when I stand on tiptoe. I can unlock the door to the house, go back to the closet and get out the stepstool. But really, is it necessary? And by now I’m late. So I decide to jump and grab the lever at the top of my jump. I used to be quite the leaper, having been a ballet dancer/teacher not so very long ago …
Well, I guess it’s been longer than I thought between leaps. Or maybe I’m not used to leaping on a concrete floor. Because somewhere between up and down (it didn’t seem to be on the landing; it seemed to happen in the air) I got a sudden sharpish pain in the ankle that went down the foot.
Expletives undeleted, I hobbled around the garage, and found that I could at least walk, although with pain. So I set off.
There was more to the post, but that was the gist of it. About five days later a large package arrived in the mail. What could it be? It was the stepstool, with some sort of clever message from Gerard. It most definitely was an endearing thing as far as I was concerned.
Fast forward to now. I finally found the thing hiding in a closet, hauled it out, and discovered it to be the absolutely perfect instrument for installing that lightbulb. It got me way up there in a way that felt secure enough that all I had to do was to lean my legs and lower torso against that top bar, hold onto the light fixture with one hand, and screw that bulb in with the other. Voilà, mission accomplished!
The gift that keeps on giving.
Yes, stepstools are great. I have a small one for indoors and a larger one, like your third one but more elaborate, for outdoors when I water the hanging plants and change the flags. I think of that one really more like a ladder, though, as it’s got a little workspace on top (four steps, too).
He is smiling…
A tool that I have is the reacher/grabber. There is a two piece pack on Amazon which has two lengths. I use the shorter one for my washer and dryer. I’m short and probably getting shorter so getting that sock in the bottom of the washer was getting harder. It might be useful for changing light bulbs.
I ended up gifting my sister a set when she had a fainting spell and split her head open. Bending down was not an option for a while. She probably thought I was nuts when she opened the package, but I think she appreciated it in the long run.
https://a.co/d/aBnTnzg
Knowing you have the right tool for the job is not the same as knowing where you put it the last time you used it.
I had recent similar frustration. I was de-cob webbing vertical blinds on a clerestory window when I dislodged one of the slats. I could barely reach the bottom of the slat from the floor. I am tall and can touch an eight foot ceiling from the floor. Couldn’t get this slat reinstalled. Got my inside step ladder. A heavy three step Gorilla ladder like neo’s. I got the slat back in and then discovered that I had reversed the slat. No possible way to reach clip at the top to undo it (over 12 feet up). Ugh! Got the six foot ladder off the porch where I had been fiddling with a dripping gutter. Not tall enough. Same story. I needed both hands to undo the interlocking clip and had to be too high up on the ladder for safety. Trudged out to a storage building to retrieve the @#$&* heavy huge ten foot ladder. I can barely carry the thing by myself. Finally got slat fixed, put everything away and quit for the day.
Neo;
I believe it’s “fuggedaboutit,” not “Fagettabout it.”
Though perhaps the latter is the Boston colloquial version of NY’s fuggedaboutit, in which case I stand (not on a footstool) corrected.
When the girl leaves, she takes your footstool with her.
I have one of those step stools, and I don’t feel safe on it. Maybe I should put up scaffolding when changing the light bulbs.
I have one, but I call it a small step ladder. It is very useful.
SHIREHOME:
I actually looked it up before I wrote the post, and AI said up to 3 rungs is a stepstool and anything more than that is a stepladder.
Then, again, we know that AI sometimes makes stuff up.
Time to clean out the closets.
Kate:
Not really. I lack storage areas where I live now and the closets are actually quite neat but very full, and I need nearly everything in them.
🙂
Great story.
Glad your stepstool surfaced and was satisfactory.
But gravity is not your friend.
Tall male acquaintances are used to being asked to “reach high”. In addition to which they/we/I claim they/we/I know how to fall. Should some altitude aid be necessary.
Even the slightest tall male acquaintance would be terribly distressed to find you got hurt when you could have just asked him.
Ask me how I know.
In my bedroom, the same room as above, I have three burned out track lights. They bug me. They have been out for years. I can’t reach them from the ten foot ladder. I have a set of scaffolding that I can reach them from but the effort to move furniture and setup and takedown the scaffolding means that task never makes it to the top of the list. The smoke detector is up there too so one of these days it will become urgent. Probably at three AM.
A nice memory of Gerard and his thoughtfulness. Thanks for sharing.
So glad I didn’t miss this story which includes Gerard. This is why I’m
waiting for your book. You are/were both excellent writers.
I have had the same step stool you describe for at least 30 years. I use it twice a year, once to change the batteries in a kitchen wall clock that hangs over the pantry, and once to hang / remove the Christmas wreath that is hung from the top of the front door. I guess that’s three times, actually?!
But our house has lovely high ceilings, which means all the light fixtures are way up there too! That’s why I also have 6ft and 8 ft stepladders!
We have a tool (a contraption appended to the end of a broom handle) that allows one to change a lightbulb without using a stepstool. You might consider that, though I’ll warn you it’s possible to have a mishap with it. I think as a rule if you’re past 60 you ought to be sparing about the use of stepstools.
Neo, then, a hook on the garage wall for hanging the step stool.
My wife is mobility limited and uses a step stool to get into my truck. She then uses the handle of her cane to reach down and hook the stool to pull it up into the cab.
Kate:
In 2006 I had a garage, attic, and basement. No more; different place.
Ah, Neo. Well, now that you know where the step stool is kept, you can find it when needed.
Sweet memory of a perfect gift!
We have a folding one with the second “step” being padded. It fit perfectly in our smallish kitchen, placed in the only open spot of unused wall space. It was a great spot to sit while waiting for the water to boil, or to accommodate company.
Now it’s in our walk-in bedroom closet, and one step is all we need to reach the top shelf.
I have 1, 2, and 3 step stepladders on each floor of this two story house. Also large collapsing A type ladders on both floors (I bought one at Harbor Freight, and got an identical one from SIL for Christmas a couple weeks later). Downstairs is easy – they have designated locations in the garage. Wife’s not great at honoring that, but I don’t ride her for that. She has her rules that I sometimes transgress. Upstairs is a bit more problematic. Their designated location is either the linen closet or the laundry room next to it.
The problem with this house is that it has high ceilings – 10’ downstairs and maybe 9’ upstairs. That means that everything is a bit higher. And you need longer ladders. I use the 2 step ladders to reach things in the cabinets in the laundry room, and to get things off the shelves in the closets. Yesterday, I was installing solar night lights outdoors at 7’, and replaced the 2 step with a 3 step ladder, esp since it had a platform to work from. Did this after “peeling off” the two step ladder. Luckily, the property wall is only maybe 8’ from the house wall, so I was fine. But that is one of my biggest problems with age – balance. It’s hard remembering to be super cautious on ladders after a half century of being just fine on much, much, higher ladders. It’s also why I gave up alpine skiing a decade ago. I knew what to do. So did my muscles, after a half century on skis. But my balance wouldn’t cooperate.
That was our PHX house. Our MT house has conventional ceilings – except for the cathedral or vaulted ceiling over the living room, that’s up to two stories high. We have had some of those small lights in the ceiling out for years, and probably some in the chandelier too. Plus some of the candles in the candelabra over the mantle have been crooked for years too. I may be able to get them with a 3-4 step ladder, but not the lights. I have a long enough ladder, but it’s probably too dangerous. So, I expect that we will have someone else change those lights, hopefully when we have the outside windows washed. Imagine the windows with that two story ceiling in the living room, then add a foot or two of foundation and crawl space. Heck, wife won’t let me get up on the roof to clean off the pine needles anymore, and the roof, at its lowest is only 8’ up. But she won’t let grandsons do it either, since they are, well, grandsons. I try to explain to her that with 5 of them, surely she can risk one of the. Nope!
Oh, and we have those grabbers everywhere. Several on every floor of every house, and a folding one in one of my suitcases. About half of them have Orange and black handles and I bought them over time. But 6 of them have blue handles. I bought them in 2 packs at Costco. Bought that way, they are dirt cheap. And hence why we have them in most of our closets. As with much at Costco, they are on rotation, showing up maybe once a year for maybe a month. Look in the tools, etc section, in one of the last rows, on the side you come in on. As a guy, I am obligated to check that section out at least once a month.
Art Deco:
I have to second that advice on long handled tools versus ladders at any age.
I’ve survived many work situations at height, max was 370 ft placing concrete, laying firebrick, installing ladders and catwalks/platforms on a power plant smokestack, but the only ladder mishap was a convertable ladder that dropped me 6 ft onto my backside on concrete four years ago. I was lucky then.
Gravity isn’t your friend.
Had a leaning type ladder slide down the side of a wall on an outside porch. I had the ladder at too much of an angle as it was too long for the job.
Happened so fast. I was 47 years old at the time. Dislocated my arm and broke the ball part of the arm bone . Sheared a piece off inside my arm.
John Baker, Whoa… What an awful “lesson”!! So sorry for all the damage!
Yes, gravity can be brutal.
Neo, I love, love your story of the step ladder gift!
What a caring, sweet man, Gerard.
Warm hugs to you!!
The house I just sold had 11.5 ft ceilings in the garage and daylight basement, and 10 ft and main floor and in the third floor master bed and bath. I gifted the new owners three ladders (hanging on the garage wall) with note “you can’t hardly change light without a ladder.”
This house is really tall. Main room ceilings are 22 ft up. The roof has multiple permanent tie backs (at my request). One of my son’s friends was helping me wash windows one day from about 16 ft up. I had asked him to humor me and wear the safety gear and tie off to one of the tie backs. He didn’t want to bother. He lost his balance and would have fallen off the ladder but was able to grab the rope he to which he was harnessed. I made a true believer out him that day.
Om, that’s amazing you weren’t very injured! Neither skull nor spine!!
Did it knock the breath out of you?
I fell from the top of a swing set, when 10 yrs old or so.
Landed flat on my back!
I could not breathe for a bit. Scary moments !
It’s still soooo very vivid!
Marlene:
I was very lucky. The friend holding the ladder when the hinge unlatched may have slowed me down, but she got a significant laceration to the palm of one hand. Providing first aid for her kept me distracted immediately but I was pretty sore for a few days. She was convinced by her son the next day to go to a immediate care clinic for stitches.
The roof was only 8 ft up. I came back with a standard extension ladder the following weekend and we finished the job. I felt bad that my ladder or my set up of the ladder caused her injury.
OSHA fall protection regs kick in at 8 ft for a reason.
We are doing some house renovations and AesopSpouse is doing a lot of the work, as he has for years. I have, I hope, convinced him not to climb the ladders unless someone else (usually me) is at hand to call 911 when (not if) he falls.
It’s just too easy to lean a little too much, or reach a little too far.
And then there are these guys.
(Just use the search “ladder Darwin awards”)
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“So, she sounds lovely. Tell us … how did you win her heart?”
“Well, I used the old stepstool move. The THREE!! step stepstool. With the safety rail.”
“Player!! High-five!”
Polish comedian:
Well well well, look who needs four guys to help change a lightbulb now.