Nothing Lasts Forever. And Sometimes Not Even A Year.

don't make things like they used toWhen my parents died in 2004, I took their 7-year-old Kenmore washer and dryer — back when Kenmore meant quality. Should you purchase their appliances around age 70, chances were you’d die before those did. Turns out that washer and dryer lasted 19 years before biting the dust…kicking the bucket…going kaput.

sayounara

So last September I bought a Whirlpool washer and dryer since they received rave reviews. Fast forward to last week when I put a load of towels in my still-sparkling-clean and shiny dryer, hit the appropriate buttons, tapped START and waited for the magic to begin. Nothing happened.

Hum. Maybe I did something wrong. So I repeated the process. Still nothing. Now don’t get me wrong; all the buttons were lit up, teasing me into thinking my wet towels were about to become extraordinarily dry and fluffy. And to think I fell for it…

sucker 2

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Why I Almost Killed My Sister

I almost killed my sister on my birthday.

say it isn't so

Now don’t get me wrong; I realize it’s shocking to lead with that, especially since this is supposed to be a humor blog and death isn’t funny. Spoiler alert: there will be a happy ending. Sort of.

It started 3 days before my birthday when I called Vicki to see whether her doctor contacted her with test results from the previous week. At 64, she’s lived most of her life with debilitating obsessive-compulsive disorder, is developmentally and physically disabled and now has a muscle condition forcing her to use a walker. Life has not been particularly kind to Vicki.

Bill, Vicki me at Tahoe

Me, brother Bill and Vicki at Tahoe circa 1960

Vicki sleeps late and doesn’t have a cell phone or computer. I can only contact her via her home phone. She often can’t reach it before it goes to voicemail so I leave a message and hope she calls me back. But this time she didn’t. I figured she’s probably out getting dinner and will call me later. But no. Continue reading

I Just Don’t Get It

So here’s the thing…as it turns out, there’s a lot I just don’t get.

And here I thought one of the perks of getting older is that wisdom piles on you like a football player under a group tackle. Seems you simply know stuff; it comes with the territory. But apparently that’s not how it works because I’m 62 and still often baffled.

Denver Broncos v Kansas City Chiefs

For instance, I don’t get it when someone says, “I know that road like the back of my hand. Obviously that person is referring to a familiarity with the road. But I ask you, how well do you really know the back of your hand? I, for one, couldn’t pick mine out of a lineup.

my hand2

Just looks like an old hand to me

Why are razor blades pricey? They’re like buying gold. What’s the justification? Is stainless steel in short supply? I imagine people frequently steal them. Here’s a thought: lower the price to let’s say, the cost of silver, and they might not get nabbed as often.

razor

The most expensive razor: $200 with sapphire blades

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One Precious Second

I almost died Wednesday night.

To put it more succinctly, someone almost killed me. I’d call it murder but I suppose in a court of law it would constitute manslaughter. None-the-less, I might be dead if it weren’t for a red Fiat and one precious second.

please tell me more

I was checking emails at 7:30 p.m. when I received notice saying some bozo had stolen one of our feral cat feeding stations and food bowls. The cats also needed more food. So I grabbed the pertinent items and headed out for the 10 minute drive up the freeway…until I realized I’d forgotten the feeding station. Typical me. So I headed back to my garage where the station was sitting in plain sight. Impossible for me to miss although somehow I’d managed.

forgotten something

Once I entered the freeway, a red 2-seater Fiat convertible flew past me. The top was down and 3 young gals were squeezed in, one obviously without a seat belt. Or a seat. Surprisingly, a police cruiser drove right by them. Must have been quittin’ time because 3 long-haired blonds speeding in a convertible are kinda hard to miss.

fiat

Insert 3 crazy gals

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Letting Go

I have a problem. If you looked inside my closet, it would appear I love to shop. REALLY love to shop.

closet full 2

Just one of 3 closets

But recently I discovered something I should have known all along: It’s not shopping that’s the problem; it’s rarely purging what I buy. For instance, some of my clothing was popular during the Reagan era. I mean, really…who keeps hip-huggers that long?

hip huggers

Now don’t get me wrong. My apparent reluctance to discard clothing I’d forgotten I even owned came as a surprise to me. Suddenly my closets seemed awfully small. This became evident when it took nearly all my strength to push dozens of occupied hangers aside in search of a particular item. That’s when I discovered a bridesmaid dress from a friend’s 1981 wedding. And no, that’s not a typo. I’m talking 1981.

Hello. My name is Janet and I have a problem letting go. Continue reading