1. To Ann Kellett, for the Living in Oblivion DVD. Believe it or not, I’ve never seen the film — though I’ve heard many good things about it. And with Steve Buscemi, you can hardly go wrong.
2. Thanks also to those of you who provided your advice and guidance with respect to my sudden major appliance needs. Looks like I’ll be going with the Frigidaire Affinity washer / dryer combo — a less expensive option than the Bosch, LG Tromm, or the Whirlpool Duet (our first three choices). On the dishwasher front, I think I’m going to go with a KitchenAid. I like the hard food disposal and the drying element, and also the dedicated Power Scrub jets.
Nothing bugs me more than having to wash the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. Except for maybe having to dry the stupid things when I take them out. May as well do them by hand and cut out the mechanical procrastination.
Question for Ric Locke: the KitchenAid uses stainless steel spray arms (4 of them). Likely to erode or not? I’m not up on my metallurgy.
3. Speaking of things with extended warranties, the Best Buy repair team will be out at the house today to fix our refrigerator. Less than a year old, and already the plastic drawers and wheel assembly are falling apart unpressured — like a Joe Wilson op-ed, or a Michael Moore documentary. So I’ll be waiting around for them today, then waiting around tomorrow for the Sears fellas to put in the washer/dryer.
Not a moment too soon, either: haven’t been able to wash clothes for several days, so I’m reduced to re-wearing workout duds.
Women, they love the musk. Unfortunately, I smell a bit like Hormel’s chili — so the only person I’m turning on with my man stink is my neighbor’s gardener, Manuel.
On the plus side, though, fresh gardenias!
4. Guest posters are free to post here today and tomorrow, while I’m dealing with repairmen and delivery people.
And if any of you can spare a few bucks and would like to contribute to the Help Jeff Save His Kitchen / Laundry Room Fund, please don’t hesitate to hit the tip jar. I certainly won’t complain this time — nor, for that matter, will a certain coterie of strung out, paranoid ex-agency beets, who imagine in the cracks of the refrigerator’s crisper drawer the first dim signs of a household coup.
Consequently, they’ve begun hoarding castor beans and a simple field-made solution of saline and glucose, and working closely with the immersion blender to keep a close eye on our Roomba. Ever since that darting little bastard took to wearing a beret and carrying a rifle, they simply don’t trust the guy.
Can’t say I do, either — but then, I’m in no hurry to voice my displeasure to a charismatic robot with an automatic weapon and a cultish following of cordless power tools.