Temporary Anachronism

The pump don't work
'cause the vandals took the handle.
--Bob Dylan, "Subterranean Homesick Blues"

Yesterday morning, Monkey discovered that the clothes weren't drying. Such a discovery was not a good way to start off a Saturday. It was already colder and drearier than I wanted it to be; the dog didn't make coffee when he woke up, so I had to do it; and I'm out of bagels. Needless to say, I was not in the mood to deal with broken appliances.

Of course, I went to look at the dryer. I believed Monkey. I had no idea how or if I could fix it. I was pretty certain that we were going to be making a trip to Sears or Lowes or someplace like that. But I had to at least make an effort. Family tradition mandates, actually, that before purchasing a new dryer (or any appliance, large or small, for that matter, from a transistor radio to a thermonuclear reactor (neither, technically, I know, are appliances, but, you get the picture)), I must attempt to fix the old dryer.

I should have unplugged the dryer, taken it apart, tested its parts, bought replacement parts, tested them, used some duct tape, mildly electrocuted myself, used some gaffer's tape, cut my hand open, fallen somehow, cursed the dryer, prayed for the dryer, and, generally, spent the balance of Saturday determining that I was incapable of fixing my dryer, then spending Sunday purchasing hauling and installing a new dryer. I didn't.

My attempt to fix the dryer consisted of cleaning the lint catcher and, basically, shaking the thing. In case you have not figured this out yet, I didn't fix the dryer. Sadly, Monkey and I determined to purchase a new (relatively) inexpensive dryer. After approximately fifteen minutes of Internet research, we determined on a model and a store. We also determined on paying for delivery of the new dryer and removal of the old. This should happen today. I hope to have pictures.

Am I suffering from any guilt complex or some sort of familial obligation syndrome? No. I recognize the proud traditions of my people. I recognize that I may be considered an assimilationist for so easily deciding to spend three hundred dollars when I could have spent two days instead and saved twenty five bucks ($275 in parts, gas, band aids, ER visits). But, the way I see it, fixing appliances is not my strong suit. As well, my time is more important to me than money (it has to be: I know I have little money; I don't know how much time I have). So, with a heavy heart, I apologize to my forebears. I ask understanding and forgiveness. I ask that you not allow your hearts to grow heavy with disappointment. I ask that you prepare yourself for the day when I reveal to you my biggest secret of all. (I don' t do my own oil changes.)

Of course, in the mean time, our house looks like a giant department store store room. All of our clothes from Monkey's first (undried) batch of laundry hang from the door ways and the shower curtain rod. It's quite a sight. I offered to run a clothes line outside, but Monkey said no. She reminded me that we have neither the right line (we could improvise) nor clothes pins (really necessary?). But, after all, there wasn't that much in the way of clothes (it just looks like a lot hanging up in the house). And, theoretically, by noon today, we'll have a new drier. I mean, how exciting is that?!

In other news, the Outlaw Birders are preparing to descend upon Rock Bridge State Park in search of migrant and resident songbirds. I'll give you a full report soon.

By the way, the Deadliners moved to 3-1 on Wednesday, with a convincing 14-5 victory over Emory Sapp and Sons. A great all-around game, except for two things: I got picked off of third base (because I was standing there with my head up my ass), and our ten pm game didn't start until closer to 10:30. AND, we found out that after last week, the league has decided to reschedule all of the ten o'clock games by adding two extra weeks to the season. Sounds great, right? Right. Except that the Deadliners don't have anymore ten o'clock games scheduled! That's just too bad, huh? At any rate, we do not have to play into the long hours of Wednesday any longer.