Googling solutions to problems has become quite commonplace. Almost every problem that arises around the house has motivated me to “Google It.” And, in something like 90% of the cases, Google has presented a solution.
What is different about what happened this morning when I Googled a problem? Nothing. That’s the wonder of Google, and the reason for this essay.
When our garage door decided to rise only about 15 inches a few days ago, my consternation must have overridden my logic. All I could think about was how much money it would cost to fix the problem. I thought about the garage door repairman whom I had called last year when I could not figure out (and Google could not tell me) what the problem was. When I recalled that the repairman took one minute to show me the wire that was not connected, and when he said he had to charge me $95 for the call, it made such an impression that I could not think clearly enough to consult Google.
During almost three days I worried, forced the garage door up with my hands, and even heard about my wife crawling under the slightly elevated door to get in the house.
This morning the cloud lifted. I thought, “Why don’t I Google this problem?”
The first Googled piece I read had the solution: Go to the motor housing, and turn the small screw with the arrow pointing up. It worked.
My quest, in this essay, is to figure out how I might think about Googling a problem right away.
I could attach a sign to almost everything around the house: Google it first.
I could start a fund, with monies to pay for repairs – just in case my ingenuity, or Google’s answers, don’t solve the problem. That way, if I’m not worried about the cost of repair, I might think about Googling right away.
Since I’m a visual learner, I could ask my wife to pose for an enlarged photo of her going under the garage door. I could post that photo in each room of the house.
Mr. Ebsen may be contacted at robertebsen@hotmail.com
