Nothing Lasts Forever – Why not?

“It’s only twenty-eight years old. You’d better call repair,” my husband says as I jiggle the heating element in my new (are you joking) oven. “They just don’t make them like they used to,” the repair guy says as he rolls his eyes, looking for patience, lifting the burners. “Only two of these work,” I comment. “I was looking for where you put the wood!” he says sarcastically.

First it was our good twenty-two inch mostly color television console that we replaced. I swear it was the same repairman that said, “There are no parts to fix this thing.”. Then it was the avocado green perfectly good refrigerator. What else can go wrong? Does anyone make a decent appliance?

Television set on stand

Our kids wanted to buy us a new stove for Christmas. What would I open on Christmas morning? What would my husband shake while guessing its contents? “We’ll just get this one fixed,” he added, as I poured breakfast brunch from the cereal box.

“I can understand the light bulbs need replacing but these were still good machines.” My husband whines, as he pays the guy. I rarely cook but for the life of me, I cannot think of what else to put in that space. But wait, there’s the cookies. No, they never make it to the oven. Thanksgiving? We eat at our daughter’s. I’ve already bought groceries just to fill the new refrigerator! Now what am I going to do? I can’t keep using the gas grill, even if it is new. My pot roast is a little smoky and the eggs keep dripping through the grate.

It was a sad day when we had the refrigerator hauled off. I almost wanted to send it flowers. It wasn’t just the replacement; it was the replacement cost. I can still remember the day we brought it home. Our third child just started kindergarten and came home with the most beautiful picture to be proudly displayed on it. Oh, the memories. It was a good refrigerator. The deliverymen must have like it too because they just kept looking at it and then me, and then back to the fridge. Oh….lots of memories. “How much?” my husband asked when I showed him the new side by side stainless steel top-of-the-line icebox. “Our other one was only two hundred fifty dollars!”

“Times have changed. Look at all the gadgets. I don’t have to fill ice trays any more. It just comes out of the door!” I was impressed. He pouted and paid the man

The salesman laughed when he sold us the new stainless facet because we had to have it installed after we discovered we couldn’t get the old one off without a blowtorch. “How much!” my husband asked pulling his hair straight out from his head. Well, it included installation. And the garbage disposal. They had to nearly remove the sink to get it in. Just like Christmas, bills and all!

“What do you mean, the garage door isn’t under warranty any more?” my husband bellowed on the other end of the phone. It came with the house and frankly, I was surprised the last two panels were still attached. The new door had to have a new opener since it would cost just the same to replace one of the two heavy coils attached.

My NEW dryer has a moisture sensor that I really love. It dries faster, too. I’m sure of it. Once every other week, when I break down and do laundry, against my will, it really does seem to go faster than the one we just bought in ’89. And if it hadn’t been for the washer not functioning properly, I probably would still be using that old one, too. Somebody is making a ton of money on us having to constantly replace stuff.

It was early last spring I read somewhere that one should drain the hot water heater every so often. Why would I know that? Oddly enough, it drained itself and flooded the dining room. I always hated that carpet. I mean technically nothing was wrong with the carpet but the colors from ’84 don’t go with my couch from ’92. The tank was under warranty, thank goodness and thank goodness we only had to pay for new copper piping, the stand, labor, a licensed plumber, and the city permit.

So what else? The original air conditioner is still chugging away. The serviceman and I have the same conversation twice a year when he comes out to check on it. “Lady, I swear,” he begins, “I don’t know why this is still working.”

And on a more personal note. My over forty year old eyes need new glasses. My over fifty year old hair needs more color, and my never-mind-how old wrinkles need ironing, that’s what else. And that’s just me. As for my husband, his over forty year old eyes are just fine with reading glasses that are all over the house, in the truck, on the patio table, and stuffed inside shirt pockets. His over fifty year old hair doesn’t need color, it just needs to be. And he has no never-mind-how old wrinkles anywhere, they’re all stretched smooth.

Whoops! Got to go. Someone is yelling for me to cook something on the new stove. What? You’re kidding, with those old pots and pans!

Written by Judy Lee  Copyright ©2016 Judy Lee