On the death of the dryer
So the dryer had been making these really awful noises for a few weeks. Snapping and rattling whenever it got fed clothes. . .that we'd go to fold and find still dampish. The dryer would sit there sullen and deliver the goods eventually, but always with a lot of bad attitude along the way. It was like the soul of a NYC taxi driver had become a ghost in the machine.
We're pretty handy people around here; in our time the inhabitants of this house have fixed all manner of things from cars to cats to hot dinners to other people's personal relationships. We were not gonna be bullied by a recalcitrant appliance. And while my mother was distrustful and sure the dryer was, in technical terms, getting ready to shit the bed, some of us still had faith that we could maybe do something else.
So tonight my mother and myself saw to the dryer.
We discovered the backside of the dryer had enough lint in it to make not a dust bunny but DustGodzilla; that monster had to come out. (My brother had already done some of this, but he didn't kill 'em all and of course they breed, all it takes is two lint molecules to rub together and before you know it you're surrounded by the armies of grey felt to the left of you, to the right of you.) We started with a little hand held vacuum and before the evening was out we had pulled out the Hoover and the leaf blower.
We also had to keep pulling our Jack Russell out of the area; apparently he decided his job was to supervise the works as well as bark ferociously at all the tools. He tried to bite the vacuum cleaner and finally had to be dragged away when he started chewing the leaf blower. A team player to the end, he was still barking as he went down the hall.
We also found a penny . . . and a very old NYC subway token. As the dryer has always resided in Georgia this was somewhat of a mystery but may go a long way towards explaining the attitude.
With all the extraneous material removed we plugged the dryer back in and hit the switch.
OOH, sparks!
We got it all stopped before we burned the house down, but it was obvious the dryer had completed its earthly mission. Like all appliances it was born to disappoint someday and sure enough, see see rider, see what you have done.
White Westinghouse, we hardly knew ye.
We're pretty handy people around here; in our time the inhabitants of this house have fixed all manner of things from cars to cats to hot dinners to other people's personal relationships. We were not gonna be bullied by a recalcitrant appliance. And while my mother was distrustful and sure the dryer was, in technical terms, getting ready to shit the bed, some of us still had faith that we could maybe do something else.
So tonight my mother and myself saw to the dryer.
We discovered the backside of the dryer had enough lint in it to make not a dust bunny but DustGodzilla; that monster had to come out. (My brother had already done some of this, but he didn't kill 'em all and of course they breed, all it takes is two lint molecules to rub together and before you know it you're surrounded by the armies of grey felt to the left of you, to the right of you.) We started with a little hand held vacuum and before the evening was out we had pulled out the Hoover and the leaf blower.
We also had to keep pulling our Jack Russell out of the area; apparently he decided his job was to supervise the works as well as bark ferociously at all the tools. He tried to bite the vacuum cleaner and finally had to be dragged away when he started chewing the leaf blower. A team player to the end, he was still barking as he went down the hall.
We also found a penny . . . and a very old NYC subway token. As the dryer has always resided in Georgia this was somewhat of a mystery but may go a long way towards explaining the attitude.
With all the extraneous material removed we plugged the dryer back in and hit the switch.
OOH, sparks!
We got it all stopped before we burned the house down, but it was obvious the dryer had completed its earthly mission. Like all appliances it was born to disappoint someday and sure enough, see see rider, see what you have done.
White Westinghouse, we hardly knew ye.
1 Comments:
"It was like the soul of a NYC taxi driver had become a ghost in the machine."
How cool of a line is that??
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