I spent, damn near, an hour trying to determine the best lightbulb for that chicken shit cheap articulated lamp, he said. He pointed up to the red metal fixture.
Lumens, cool or warm, energy use, even the life expectancy, he said. And the one thing I learned for sure is that any and all new lightbulbs will surely outlast my sorry old ass. I’m a dimmer switch now.
But you have a “daybed” in your office, she said, taking a seat there. My point exactly, he replied. She giggled her giggle. Tell me about this bias light thing again, she asked?
Screens, monitors, TV’s are so white bright that they can cause eye strain when contrasted with relative surrounding light, he replied. But backlighting seems to help, or some such otherwise indigestible digital drivel, he responded.
She received the info with a smile, a nod, and a handoff of two throw pillows. He stowed the throws in a chair and tablet toggled music. A film noir mix from a streaming service. She stretched out on the daybed. And dusk did its thing through the horizontal blinds.
After a quiet few minutes she gave lyric to the down-tempo strains saying, Hit me with some blue RGB.
Sure, he said. Pressing the remote “On” and then “B” and then “Fade” the desk attached LED strip softly lit the room.
Thanks, she said, and girls light candles when they write. Right?