Turning the lights back on -- in more ways than one

Last night as I drove home from work, police lights came on behind me. We were mired in backed up stop-sign traffic near Olive and Fowler, so I knew the lights were for me.

Saying I drive fairly cautiously would be an understatement, so this was the first time I've been pulled over since, I think, 1991. Wasn't nervous though, since I knew I hadn't broken any laws. I just pulled over and reached for my proof of registration and insurance papers. Turns out, I wouldn't need them.

The deputy said he pulled me over because my tail lights were out, both of them, and he was concerned that someone might not see me and come up too fast behind me on the dark country roads. He asked how much farther I still had to drive. He ended up following me the rest of the way home, to make sure I got there safely. No ticket. Never even asked me for any ID. He suggested that since both lights were out, it might be a fuse, not the bulbs.

I got home, and called my brother. But, while I'm not afraid to ask for help, I have an innate drive to try to solve things myself, especially this year, as I've gone from married to single mom. Since it was going to be a while before Mark, would arrive, I decided to check things out myself.

Found the map to the fuses in my owner's manual, found the fuse box in the actual car, and began cursing the design of my car, which made it near impossible to reach said fuse box without lying on my back and trying to maneuver into the small space under my steering wheel, behind the dash. As it turns out, the position was so awkward that I couldn't get the fuse out anyway, neither with the little plastic fuse tool nor with tweezers.

Anyway, I wasn't even confident that the fuse was the problem, since the fuse in question operates two sets of lights, only one of which weren't working. Frustrated, I still waited for Mark, and I was chatting with a friend on Facebook. "Might be the bulbs," he suggested. "Both at the same time?" I asked. "Could be," he said.

I went back out to try to figure out how to access where the bulbs were. That turned out to be easier than I might have expected. Pulled out the bulbs that I thought might be the tail light bulbs and Voila - even to my untrained eye, the filaments on both appear burnt out. Back into the house, doublechecked the owners manuel again, and SUCCESS - I had guessed the right bulbs.

Quick trip back to Kragen, with minutes to spare before closing time, and picked up a packet with two new bulbs (for less than $5!). And the clerk confirmed that yes, it looked like both of the old bulbs were bad.

Got back to the house just as my brother was checking out the fuse box. But I told him the progress I'd made, we popped in the new tail lights and basked in the warm red glow. "What'd you need me for?" he asked teasingly. Turns out I hadn't.

It wasn't a hard thing. It wasn't monumental. Doesn't make me any kind of mechanical whiz because I solved the problem on my own. But a feeling of success can come from big accomplishments, like climbing mountains and running marathons, or it can come from a series of little accomplishments, like mowing a lawn for the first time in your life, putting up Christmas decorations on the house (which I'll be tackling next week) -- and fixing broken tail lights so I don't get pulled over again or worse, crashed into. By little and big steps, I'm regaining confidence in myself.