January 30, 2013



I’m not the guy you call when you need something done around the house. Oh, I can sweep and dust and mop and pick a few things up. But I’m not the handy dandy plumber. I’m not the guy that can build shelves or install a light fixture. I can do dishes, but if the dishwasher is on the blink, I can only hit it and swear. Which very seldom does much good. Although it does make me feel better.
So today, I am taking a washing machine to the dump grounds. And I hope it gets crushed real slowly. It has deserved it for a long time. Actually, I am taking two washing machines to the dump. I will explain.
You see, our washing machine is kind of old. Not real old. Just kind of. And it has been a piece of junk for quite awhile. The repairman and I are on a first name basis. It’s had belts replaced. It’s had bearings replaced. It has had new legs put on.
Lately it has been dancing. I mean it shakes the whole house! If you put a sock, one sock in that thing, when it goes into spin it shakes the windows on the house. So the boss of the household, that would be Shirley, instructs me to adjust the legs on the machine. Now the washing machine sits next to the dryer. In a space designed solely for the washer and dryer. There is no man, well maybe Rubberman, that can reach under there and screw those legs up or down. So, like a caveman, I use a lever. I pry it up with a steel post using a cast iron kettle for a fulcrum. Geez, I’m starting to use new words! It does get the washer up, but it does put a hole in the new floor. My bad.
After adjusting the legs, and checking with a level… Okay, no level. I just kind of eyeballed it. I threw some clothes in there and put that baby on spin.
GET BACK! She was dancing like one of the stars on TV! I grabbed onto the washer with both hands. It started to shake me! I mean 300 pounds of flesh shaking like a bowl full of Jell-O! It vibrated across the washroom and jerked the hoses off! The water began spraying around the washroom. It had me pinned against the wall and just as I was going to pass out, it unplugged itself. I think God intended me to do great work in the future.
I told Shirley I was going to get her a new washer and this baby was going to die a slow and agonizing death. Being kind of a prankster, I went to the auction sale up on the hill and bought her one of those old ones with  the wringer deal on the top. Not my best idea.
It breaks my heart to haul two washers to the dump on the same day. But better than sleeping with a washer in the garage.