So I started wandering around the surge protector aisle because I like to party hard. I remembered that of the 4, or is it 127, surge protectors I have; one was from my Dad’s place in Florida. Every time I looked at it I remembered how fond he was of ordering from the Harriet Carter Catalog, distinctive gifts since 1958. My downstairs neighbor James, a film director who is all things electronic and computer was in my apartment one day.
“Holy cow, what is that?”
“Uhhh...a Harriet Carter Powermax Coax surge protector?”
So I needed to upgrade, just to keep James from laughing every time he saw it. I settled on a $40 15 amp 1875 watts one because it had 10 plugs, and not the paltry 8 that the $28 one had. I didn't read the package. Reading is for girls.
At home, I unwrapped all the parts and was surprised to find three cables for all the extra protection ports: Broadband, fax/modem/phone, and my toaster oven. This was not your Daddy's surge protector. There was also a GOLD Dual Coax DSS/Cable Modem communication protection port because that particular metal improves the signal. Any woman could have told them that gold always improves a signal.
So I hooked up the lines to the new protector but the air/con plug wouldn’t fit. So instead of being able to toss the 157 year-old artifact my Dad bought off a T-Rex, I was now obligated to keep them both.
In unhooking and re-hooking all the lines I ended up with a plug to nowhere. I had apparently pulled it out of the port in my ass and now couldn’t figure out where to put it. That's my red flashlight in the middle of all those wires because I had to get down on my knees - and not in the good way - and look for an empty port.
I decided to ignore the problem and ten minutes later tried logging on. I couldn’t connect and in a panic I rushed downstairs to James’s place and begged him to come upstairs and fix whatever it was that I’d done. He did. I had just pulled the cord from the broadband port that was lying on the floor. The one place I hadn't looked.
He saw the two surge protectors lying side by side and asked me why the old one had the air/con plug in it and was not in the new device. I informed him that it wouldn’t fit into the new surge. He told me that wasn't possible and grabbed the plug and rammed it, crammed it, pushed it, and hammered it into the new surge protector. James turned to me and said, “See, it just needed a little push.” This is why mothers look on horrified when fathers toss their kids into the air with reckless abandon. Men play rough.
On to the next relic. My iron. I remembered taking (stealing) the iron out of our home after my parents divorced and dad was moving in his third wife. (Her life will be ruined; she won’t have an iron and then she’ll force Dad to get her a maid and …oh shit) I dragged it to NY and then on to LA, where it lived in a bottom shelf of a cabinet and never saw the light of day because I dry-clean cotton shirts to avoid ironing.
Sidebar: When Meryl Streep and Cher were shooting the movie Silkwood, Streep ironed her own everyday clothes. Cher asked Meryl why she was doing that since there were ‘people’ who could do that for her. And La Streep answered that she’d rather do it herself since it kept her grounded, normal. Fool.
I had a million coupons from Bed, Bath & I Can Never Get Out Of That Store For Under $5,000 Worth Of Crap I Don't Need so I bought some things that I had up until now not been missing. A knife sharpener. A rubber spatula. A giant drum of Oxi-Clean. I thought of my Mom's 45-pound iron that I never used and just pushed around a cabinet so that I could get to the other vampire items I had hidden away from daylight.
So of course I bought a new one. With a cord that automatically winds itself up in the base of the iron so I won’t have to take an extra 16 seconds out of my very busy life of watching HGTV to do this arduous task.
I took it home, pulled out the offending old iron and since the new iron had no resting plate, I sat it upright in the shelf only to discover it wouldn’t fit. Not on any shelf anywhere in my kitchen. And I wasn’t about to give up the cord roll-up option, I can tell you that right now. I’M A BUSY PERSON.
I was resigning myself to the fact that I’d have to put it under a sink. Either in the kitchen or in the bathroom. But under the sink in anyone’s place is always disgusting. I don’t know what goes on under sinks while we sleep but it’s always rusty and creepy down there.
So I put my shiny new iron in with my towels, where it is resting comfortably and will never see an ironing board in its entire life.
End of I Warned You I Would Talk About My New Iron chat.
I used to iron my KIDS clothes and then I would find them in a wrinkled pile on the floor. I was definately a fool. No more. If my kids want to look messy,or even wear clothes that don't match that is their problem.
ReplyDeletegm, my mother used to iron our SHEETS with that iron! Then when we got old enough to add that to our list of chores, we had to do it. IRON OUR OWN FREAKING SHEETS.
ReplyDeleteAh, you Hollywood types and your glamorous lives!
ReplyDeleteI was at a yard sale with my friend, Richard, and he literally got to a brand-new-in-the-box Rowenta iron (retail like $80) for only $2 at this Little League benefit -- like 15 seconds before I did. To preserve the friendship that is why he now gives me his car when he is out of town.
ReplyDeleteAloha,
Martha Jane
Ironing? Not sure what it is you speak of. I have a wife.
ReplyDeleteWhere did you buy that from? I may have a coupon.
ReplyDelete