Not about the dishwasher

Yesterday morning I started to write a post about how much I like our dishwasher. It’s a Bosch, it has very simple controls, it’s quiet, and it works really well. Then I went downstairs and discovered water all over the kitchen floor. And dripping into the basement.

Now, this is not the dishwasher’s fault, and I don’t say that because I refuse to ascribe evil motives or moral responsibility to a kitchen appliance. It’s the refrigerator’s fault. And I absolutely ascribe moral responsibility to the refrigerator. I’m leaning toward evil motives as well. I think the refrigerator was jealous of how much we prefer our dishwasher and our stove. I think the refrigerator doesn’t like the fact that we keep a secondary refrigerator in the basement, and that we look at other refrigerators when we’re out shopping. I think the refrigerator was upset that we aren’t in love with it any more, and was determined to demonstrate that it is not cold and heartless. (Although being cold is what had made the refrigerator attractive in the first place.) Maybe the refrigerator just wanted some attention, and this was the quickest way it knew to get some.

I won’t pretend that I don’t feel a sense of loss. I met the refrigerator on July 4th weekend in 1995, when I was on the rebound from the death of my first refrigerator. (I don’t consider the dorm fridges in college to have been serious refrigerators.) What started as a summer romance blossomed into a long-term relationship, even if it was mostly centered around food. It was a Maytag refrigerator, one of Maytag’s first ventures out of their traditional laundry and dishwashing domains. Like my Panasonic bicycle 20 years ago, my Maytag refrigerator caused some cognitive dissonance at first. Will it wash my food? Does it have a spin cycle for the lettuce? But the jokes quickly faded as I realized how good the refrigerator was for me. When I bought a house 3 years later that came with a full set of appliances, I brought my Maytag refrigerator with me. Now, with more than a little regret, I’m starting to accept that it’s time to move on.

Unless it’s a much bigger problem, such as a leak in our back wall that it somehow steering water onto our kitchen floor exactly where the refrigerator used to live! (We’ve moved the refrigerator to test this theory.) I’m fantasizing about disaster scenarios that will excuse the refrigerator, and I’m not sure that’s healthy. Appliances change, but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t used to be a good appliance.

Besides, have you met my dishwasher?