Today I’m going to sing the praises of some old things in my possession. I don’t so much own them, as I just live comfortably alongside them and use them as needed. In this throwaway society, they have been old friends to me, working out a long lifespan in my company.
First, my refrigerator. In 1987 I bought this aging General Electric fridge from a friend who has since passed away. I paid two hundred dollars for it. It has faithfully hummed away through two earthquakes, a marriage, my drunken stupors, my neglect, my rush of caring every year or so, and 20 years of my sobriety, not to mention three moves.
Last year, when we moved it to put in a new kitchen floor, I looked at its old eggshell white appearance and promptly went down to the appliance store. There I asked about fancy new ones that cost upwards of $1,500.
The fellow told me, “They all run on computer chips now. They’re harder to repair. Yours is actually made from replaceable parts. Keep it if it’s still running.”
So I did.
Second, my cell phone. I got this old Cingular Samsung in 2006 when I relapsed and took it with me to rehab, where I didn’t use it. I think four years qualifies as aged for a cell phone. I can’t take pictures with it, and it doesn’t work when I go to Big Sur, but on the other hand, I’ve never dropped it, washed it, lost it, or had it malfunction. I actually feel fond of my cell phone.
Third, my blessed laptop. I bought this HP in 2004 when I went into business for myself as a writer and editor. My fingers know this keyboard like the back of my hand. I had it serviced this past year, and mumbled to my computer guy about getting a new one. He grumbled back at me: “If it ain’t broke, don’t replace it.”
This is also my theory of marriage.
Finally, I must tell you about my phenomenal egg beater. It’s a portable Sunbeam Mixmaster. This thing is one of the oldest items in my collection of usable old things. It’s so old, I can’t even tell you the first years of its history.
In 1976, my beloved father bid on some abandoned box containers down at the local moving company. The rule was, you bid blind, not knowing the contents of the boxes. He liked a challenge.
It was a treasure hunt, the day we went through those boxes. They were someone’s household goods, left behind in Barstow, California, a veritable oasis in the Mojave Desert. I got most of the stuff because I was furnishing my college home. This all happened 34 years ago, and I’ve lost memory of what the other stuff was.
The Sunbeam Mixmaster, however, has been a vital part of my household ever since. My father died in 1983. My mother has Alzheimer’s now. But my Mixmaster is still beating away, with a lot of Sunbeam smiles.
First, my refrigerator. In 1987 I bought this aging General Electric fridge from a friend who has since passed away. I paid two hundred dollars for it. It has faithfully hummed away through two earthquakes, a marriage, my drunken stupors, my neglect, my rush of caring every year or so, and 20 years of my sobriety, not to mention three moves.
Last year, when we moved it to put in a new kitchen floor, I looked at its old eggshell white appearance and promptly went down to the appliance store. There I asked about fancy new ones that cost upwards of $1,500.
The fellow told me, “They all run on computer chips now. They’re harder to repair. Yours is actually made from replaceable parts. Keep it if it’s still running.”
So I did.
Second, my cell phone. I got this old Cingular Samsung in 2006 when I relapsed and took it with me to rehab, where I didn’t use it. I think four years qualifies as aged for a cell phone. I can’t take pictures with it, and it doesn’t work when I go to Big Sur, but on the other hand, I’ve never dropped it, washed it, lost it, or had it malfunction. I actually feel fond of my cell phone.
Third, my blessed laptop. I bought this HP in 2004 when I went into business for myself as a writer and editor. My fingers know this keyboard like the back of my hand. I had it serviced this past year, and mumbled to my computer guy about getting a new one. He grumbled back at me: “If it ain’t broke, don’t replace it.”
This is also my theory of marriage.
Finally, I must tell you about my phenomenal egg beater. It’s a portable Sunbeam Mixmaster. This thing is one of the oldest items in my collection of usable old things. It’s so old, I can’t even tell you the first years of its history.
In 1976, my beloved father bid on some abandoned box containers down at the local moving company. The rule was, you bid blind, not knowing the contents of the boxes. He liked a challenge.
It was a treasure hunt, the day we went through those boxes. They were someone’s household goods, left behind in Barstow, California, a veritable oasis in the Mojave Desert. I got most of the stuff because I was furnishing my college home. This all happened 34 years ago, and I’ve lost memory of what the other stuff was.
The Sunbeam Mixmaster, however, has been a vital part of my household ever since. My father died in 1983. My mother has Alzheimer’s now. But my Mixmaster is still beating away, with a lot of Sunbeam smiles.
What old stuff are you still using?
