Category: default || By jt3y

Last summer, when I returned from Florida, it became clear that my refrigerator was dying. The poor old Frigidaire would chug along endlessly until dragging its inside temperature down to a balmy 45 degrees, at which point its compressor would stop, exhausted, with a cough.

My regular repairman came out and told me it should be put down, but volunteered to tinker a little bit, and see if we could get a few more months together. Well, glory hallelujah, perhaps knowing that the end was near, the refrigerator rallied.

Sure, some people say it's because the humidity went down; others say that the minor adjustments the repairman made helped the compressor eek out a few more BTUs; but I know the real answer --- the refrigerator just didn't want to give up. It was going to fight.

But the time comes when all good refrigerators must finally surrender to their fates, and last week, I noticed with mounting horror that things inside the fridge were becoming decidedly un-refrigerated again. The milk was spoiling; the lettuce wilting.

And so, with great reluctance, born of infinite sorrow, deep guilt, and the sadness that comes with the thought of making payments for the next 12 months, I arranged to have a certain large department store chain deliver a new icebox.

Naturally, they can only promise that it will arrive "sometime Tuesday." Morning? Afternoon? Evening? They're not sure.

In any event, on Tuesday, I get to take a day off of work and wait for the new fridge to be delivered.

Oh, I'm sure there will be some tears shed (especially as I write the first check) when the old refrigerator goes away to that big kitchen in the sky. Sure, I'll tell the old refrigerator about Appliance Heaven, where newly departed Samsungs and Kenmores meet the Philcos and Kelvinators and Coldspots that went before them. I hope that comforts the Frigidaire in its final hours.

Myself, I'll take comfort from the fact that I can finally bring a damned frozen pizza home and ensure that it will stay frozen --- unlike the one that I cooked the other day, only to learn, to my utter disgust, that it had apparently defrosted, spoiled, and then refrozen at some point in the past.

If there's anything that smells worse than spoiled pizza cheese that's been heated up to 350 degrees, I don't want to know.

I mean, seriously: You didn't really think that I was getting all misty-eyed over this piece-of-junk refrigerator, did you? I'm liable to kick it a few times before they roll it out the door.

Well, OK, the stuff about me weeping every time I write the checks --- that is true. In fact, even as I write this, I feel a little pain in my wallet.

(Sniff.) Excuse me, I need just a minute.

. . .

I'm better now. In purchasing the new fridge, I ran head-first into a new trend I hadn't heard about --- larger appliances. According to the Wall Street Journal, more and more Americans, apparently unsatisfied with driving giant SUVs and using most of the world's energy, are now demanding restaurant-style appliances in the kitchens of their 14-bedroom McMansions:

The bigger-is-better trend is being driven in part by high-end manufacturers that are looking for a new way to distinguish themselves, especially since the commercial look --- such as stainless-steel finishes and double-door refrigerators --- has already trickled down into less-expensive brands. Gigantic refrigerators are riding the “Costco effect,” or people’s desire for more space to store the items they buy in bulk.

Indeed, it has trickled down to the standard appliances as well. I couldn't find a new refrigerator the same dimensions as the old one. All (except for the dorm and apartment style refrigerators) were a little bit wider and deeper. The new one is about three inches larger all the way around.

Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but when the fellow I bought the house from remodeled the kitchen a few years ago, he built the cabinets almost right up to the edge of the fridge.

Someone has suggested I take a chainsaw to the cabinets, which does have a certain folksy charm, but I'm thinking that rather than a problem, this might be an opportunity to live out the fantasy of bachelors everywhere.

Namely, maybe I should put the new fridge in the bathroom.

If only I could fit the TV set in there, I'd have the slob trifecta.