You know when you have a problem and you’re like a dog with a bone until you solve it? This has been my life for the past month when our remote control for the electric gate into our complex started malfunctioning.
Uttering the words “abracadabra” wasn’t working any better than pushing the button for the remote repeatedly. My nightly temporary solution (usually in the rain) was to pull up to the gate, and with the car running and my purse inside, open the small pedestrian gate, run inside and dance on the hose to open the gate, all the while praying that someone didn’t steal my car. It seems that my menopausal weight gain was not enough for the hose to open the gate; hence my nightly dance upon it, trying to make myself heavier.
So I bought a new battery. Actually, I bought two new batteries because that’s the only way you can purchase the size of battery that I needed. Just my luck. All $12 dollars worth of it.
Battery change didn’t work. Onto Canadian Tire to view their vast selection of garage door remote controls. The vast selection comprised exactly three devices; two of which didn’t appear to be programmable. So, I went with the only one that had an ancient programmable code that I could enter into it (as opposed to receiving rolling messages from space).
I took it home, opened her up and started to go blind trying to move the little teeny tiny widgets with the supplied paper clip thingy. Wow, this really was hi-tech! Out to the gate I went, all hopeful in anticipation, only to have the gate remain firmly shut, mocking me.
On one of my many trips inside to read the instructions further, my helpful husband called me…trying to help from afar. He could see neither the instructions not the device, so in frustration, I hung up the phone and tried, tried again.
Hours spent to no avail. Husband arrives home….speaks to neighbours who all concur…you don’t need a garage door opener (stupid!), you need a gate opener. What the hell was the difference, I asserted, as long as you could program the thing? And I didn’t recall seeing a Gate Opener section at Canadian Tire.
I took the device back for my full refund and my husband, speaking more slowly and in clearer English, tried to explain the problem yet again to the under-aged staff. We left empty handed.
Finally, at the next council meeting, Ken spoke to the one person on our strata who actually knew about such things. Vindicated, I was…when Greg explained that I had purchased the correct device, but I simply hadn’t managed to get the remote speaking to the gate. Apparently, yelling obscenities at the gate wasn’t going to get the job done either. I had to match the frequency of the device to the gate, program the code and perhaps face to the east, do the hokey-pokey and turn myself around, but I digress.
Back to Canadian Tire. Back to the wall of doom to purchase yet another remote, this time in black. I read the instructions with the concentration of a Buddhist Monk meditating on the meaning of life. I risked blindness once more moving the little widgets ever so carefully into place for the secret code. Finally, I took the device to the gate, along with the paper clip thingy and tried every combination of settings to get the gate to talk. Had I been able to slap the gate, I would have. On the very last setting, the gate miraculously opened.
My eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Thinking it was a fluke, I patiently waited for the gate to close fully before pushing the magic button yet again. Happiness.
From the time we started to have problems with the remote, to the day I got the new remote to open the gate, a full month had gone by. But at least for now, the hose dancing is over and the neighbors can stop laughing.
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