Thanks to keen powers of observation, I knew something was amiss when I saw the cable hanging down and gently waving in the subtle breeze of the just-opened garage door. On Sunday. After Mass. "This cannot be good," I mumbled to the ants.
Truth be told, the garage door of my condo has been wonky for ages. I spend a notable and unbillable percentage of time climbing up a ten foot ladder to reset the opener's remote control; the outside keypad stopped working years ago. I simply ignore the flickering lights, grinding sounds, and big red warning tag a repair guy attached to an unreachable height in 2002.
I thought I'd end up forking over $400-$500* when Mike from this place showed up to check out the situation. Again, I credit the Holy Spirit for this morning's encounter ─ and not just because I shelled out only $101.65 for these reassuring words: "I've adjusted your tension."
Mike's teaching moment about light has given me lots to ponder. All the weirdo door opener stuff? "Just touch the light gently to reprogram," Mike explained. "Holding it down erases memory."
*Would've been $425 had the motor needed replacing which Mike advised against. "It's fine," he said as he clipped off what turned out to be a bogus warning tag.
