It hung so low, though, we had to loop the chain back on itself and secure it.
It hung there for over five years.
In August it came crashing down. Made a hell of a mess. Know how hard it is to get shattered crystal out of carpet, fabric chairs, and love seat? Pretty damned hard.
So Mom got into her head (Yes, Mom, I live with my parents) that we should replace said chandelier with a ceiling fan. Fine.
Take down what's left, and examine. There's this little stirrup-shaped dohicky with a bolt attached, to which the chain of the chandelier is screwed onto.
So. We go to Home Depot. <3 the Depot. Spend almost two entire fucking hours fighting over the size of an adapter to go from said bolt-post, to ceiling fan support pipe, to ceiling fan.
See, Mom seems to be male/female dyslexic. The bolt-post is male. We need a female adapter. She kept looking for male, well, because what we had was male. *bashes head against a shelf-post in Depot*
Anyway, it took us - I mean, me - a further 3 hours or so to get the damned fan actually hung... with Mom -and- sister shouting from the floor, "No, this way! No, that way! Watch the blades!"
Fast forward to this past Saturday.
The ceiling fan in the kitchen died finally, after about 3 months of groaning and killing lightbulbs in two days.
We take down the fan tonight - Wednesday - and examine the damage. (and pour about a full cup of lubricant oil on myself and the floor).
The 2x4 which supports the fan has a huge metal hook through it. There's a rubber gasket in the hook. There's a pin through the rubber gasket. Then there's a metal bracket that clips over the pin, which holds a huge nut. A pipe length goes into the nut, then into the fan "base".
So we look at the replacement fan. The nut will not fit over the post of the "new" fan. There's no thread, and they're the same size.
I figure, hey, we need a pipe to fit the bolt, then an adapter to go a size a bit larger (or smaller) than the post of the fan, and then a correctly sized short short length of pipe.
Except Mom wants to do it the hard way by finding a piece of pipe that will fit exactly. Mom wants to go to Depot. I tell Dad, "Hey Dad, this'll take us an hour. Watch. And if it does, my ass is going to bed at 11:30."
So we go to Depot, fan and bracket in hand. 9:58pm. Depot's doors are closed. WTF? When did Depot start closing at fucking ten?
Go to Lowes. Closed. At ten. WTF?
So I turn to Mom and suggest we go to a diner.
We get home from the diner. It's been an hour. I was right about half of it, anyway.
Then Mom says, "Pick up the parts on the way home from work tomorrow, Mike, and get your brother to help you put it up."
Riiiiiiiight. Might happen.
Just like earlier tonight.
Yesterday I bought Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. I got to play for /maybe/ fifteen minutes. My brother and two of his friends got to play for almost four hours.
I get home tonight, two minutes before he got home with Dad (from Dialysis.) Change my shoes. Head downstairs... he's walking in with Dad, and immediately sits down and starts playing. I didn't even get -into- the living room.
"Dan, can I play? You got to play for several hours last night."
"No I didn't, my friends did."
"Well, you coulda told them it's your game, and you only just got it."
Of course, he ignored me.
By the time I was done dinner, I didn't even give a flying crap anymore. If a cold double cheeseburger from McDonalds can be called dinner.