Mom and Dad didn't buy their first washer and dryer until 1973 when Dad was doing his second tour at Annapolis. The devices they selected were the latest offerings from Maytag sporting the latest hot and trendy color palette - harvest gold!
Prior to this, I have vague recollections of wash days being an all-day family affair. I was loaded into the Mustang along with multiple clothes hampers and all three of us trundled off to the local laundromat. While I managed to keep myself occupied with a small toy Mom deftly packed, she and Dad did the wash. Sometimes, in an especially fun treat for me, Mom let me separate clothes that had clung together with static in the dryer. I still remember the crackling sound as I pulled the garments apart.
Now, gone was having to hoard quarters to feed machines, the tedium of schlepping laundry back and forth to the laundromat, and the interminable wait for open machines and cycles to finish. Mom and Dad could now start a load and have dinner, watch TV, or just chill. A washer and dryer in the house was a game changer.
That washer and dryer stayed with us when we moved to Gulfport, MS in 1975, and our subsequent moves to two different houses in Long Beach several years later. They were built like tanks. Apart from Dad replacing a few belts and heating elements, they faithfully performed their respective duties for our family for 25 years.
Sometime in the '90's, Mom was finally done with the harvest gold theme. Replacements were purchased and the dependable duo was gifted to a friend for whom they continued their unwavering service until Hurricane Katrina. It took a Category 5 storm sending them to the bottom of Bay St. Louis to finally take them out.
I know it's a trope younger generations make fun of when they hear us say it, but they don't make them like that anymore.
When we purchased a washer and dryer for our current home, we picked the latest offerings from Samsung sporting a lovely shade of blue. All was good for about five years when after a particularly bad storm and nearby lightning strike, the washer failed to power on. With guidance from a bevy of YouTube channels, I dismantled all the electronics looking for a fuse or reset switch and finally deduced the storm's lightning strike had taken out the board itself. I pinged Samsung and was told that particular circuit board was no longer produced. If one could be procured, the cost would be halfway to a new washer.
I. Was. Hot. To no one in particular, I launched into a spirited, expletive-laden, tin foil hat diatribe about corporate conspiracies, shoddy modern manufacturing, and built-in obsolescence.
"Why the bloody hell does a washing machine need a circuit board?! I don't need a damned digital display to tell me my laundry is in its rinse cycle - I can figure that out by looking through the bloody big glass door. And I sure as hell don't need a dainty 30-second melodic alert to tell me my load is done. I'll get to it when I damned well get to it! Give me bloody mechanical dials, buttons, and obnoxious buzzers any day!"
Eventually, the budget finally allowed for a new washer. As Andrea and I made our way to a big box store, I was resigned to the fact the chosen model still shared a lot of components with my laptop. The poor kid who was our salesman tried to upsell us on the next model up.
"Yeah, it's great. See, it's the latest generation Wi-Fi capable device that can send text alerts about your laundry to your phones."
I laughed. Loudly. I had an expletive-laden tirade locked and loaded, but before I could deliver it, I felt Andrea's hand on my arm. She managed a smile along with a fairly stern, "Umm. That's quite alright. The model we've chosen is just fine."
We took delivery of the new washer and bid farewell to the tedium of schlepping laundry to the local laundromat, waiting for the loads to finish, and then schlepping the now wet and much heavier clothes home to dry. The washer and dryer were not a matched set. They're different colors from different manufacturers, but I didn't care. In this case, functionality trumped form. All was good. Until it wasn't.
Not two weeks later, Andrea was trying to dry a load, and I heard, "Are you freaking kidding me?!"
This can't be good. I go around the corner as she's coming toward me. Her face is an exquisite blend of utter exasperation and resigned amusement. "Wayne, the dryer isn't working..."
"Son-of-a-.."
"Dirty Laundry" - Don Henley (w/the Eagles)
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