This week my dryer failed. I was on a roll with my clothes washing, you know, sort and separate, pre-wash and spray. The easy-to-wash washables separated from those that are a pain in the Watusi, the filthy from the this-doesn’t-look-dirty, and finally the hardest of all, the gotta be bleached. I have never figured out the bleaching process and don’t know if I bleach one at a time, lump them all together or how to get them clean without leaving white spots all over the clothes.
Here is my wash-day rhythm: Wash a load, stick it in the dryer, another one in the washer, fold the dry clothes. Get a cup of coffee. Three loads, two hours, easy job. But then without warning, the heating unit on the dryer died, so there I was with three loads of wet laundry, no dryer, and no clothesline. Air dry, I thought, that would work. It would take longer, but I’d get it done. I tried, but it didn’t work. So, off to Billings we went, new dryer and Cowboy installed it. I’m a happy woman.
This adventure reminds me of the last time I trekked to the appliance store, that time for a washer. Sometimes my brain makes up things, but every word of this story is true:
The last appliance I bought was a washing machine. I had a Maytag. Do you remember the Maytag repairman who sits by the phone waiting for any kind of call? I had that washer machine for nearly 25 years, moved it to five different houses, and it was a dependable wonderful washer. I never had to call my repairman to do anything, but finally it croaked, so off I went, checkbook in hand, to buy a new one. I went to a local appliance store, where I was met by a salesman, Kenny, whom I had met when buying a dishwasher, a couple years before and he remembered me.
“Hi, Kenny, I need a new washing machine, my Maytag is finally dying,” I said, looking at the row of machines, which basically all looked alike. “I want another Maytag. It’s been a good one.”
Kenny said, “First of all, Maytag is no more, so you can’t buy a new one. And isn’t your washing machine fixable? I can give you the name of a couple repairmen and they can fix you up in a jiffy. It’s cheaper and you’ll be happier. Just get your old Maytag fixed.”
Now, I thought this was odd for a salesman to say, after all his job was to SELL machines, not fix them. I had already called a repairman, and he said it was useless, couldn’t be fixed, and I needed a new one. Twenty-five years was a long time, I thought.
I repeated to Kenny what the repairman told me, and he said, “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Gail. You really should get it fixed. You’re going to be mighty unhappy.” What was going on? I wondered if it was some ploy to get me to buy some sort of special machine, but he was serious. I looked over the not-Maytag machines, and selected one that looked like it would do the work I needed. How much laundry did one person use? I shelled over about $500, and left poorer, but okay, still wondering about Kenny and if he had lost his marbles.
The machine ran just fine, but it only filled to the ¼ load line meaning the top layer didn’t get washed. I tried all kinds of things for several months before I went back to see my friend Kenny. I’m a good complainer, but I liked Kenny and didn’t want to return my fairly new, not-a-Maytag washing machine.
“Hey, Kenny, do you remember that not-a-Maytag I bought? It doesn’t clean very well.”
He looked at me, and said, “Do you remember I told you to get your old Maytag fixed?”
Oops… “Well, yeah, but…”
“The new water-economy rules on washing machines means that you can only wash ¼ load at a time.”
“Do you mean I have to wash four different loads in order to get one load of clothes clean?”
“Yup, that’s what you do,” Kenny said. “Get your old one fixed.”
Well, my old Maytag was long gone, off to Maytag heaven. I said, “Okay, that’s not gonna work, I’ve got books and blogs to write and trips to take and don’t have time to wash all those loads.”
“Then buy this one,” and he showed me a new washer. “It’s a commercial washer and will fill up to the top just fine.”
“Okay, how much?”
Argh! I wrote another check for $500, and he swapped the old for the new the next day.
This new fancy washing machine gets all my clothes clean, I am as happy as a clam, whatever that means, and maybe this machine will last 25 years-wait, I will be XXX years old by then, so I’d better add this to my will. This machines that really works will be like gold and my kids can fight over it.
If you enjoy Gail’s blogs, please share. You can see all her blogs and books on her website, gailcushman.com Electronic versions are available onAmazon.com.
