Things fall apart; the center cannot hold

Over the last month or so, I decided to stop procrastinating and get some broken things fixed. I took apart a leaking toilet, replaced all the non-porcelain parts, and put it back together. I had the broken driver’s sun visor in my car replaced. I replaced several flaky light fixtures. I took a nonfunctional VCR to the repair shop. I sent the older of our two TiVos to Texas to have its ailing modem repaired and its hard drive and memory upgraded. I bought refill kits for our laser and inkjet printers, both of which were running low. I purchased replacements for Ben’s dead Palm and the dead video adapter that he had been using to play computer games. And I had the broken fuel door on our minivan replaced.

The various mechanical devices in my household took notice of what I was doing, and realized that if I wasn’t stopped, they would all have to work at the same time. Unthinkable! They decided to retaliate. The toilet started leaking again. One of the new light fixtures developed exactly the same problem as the one it replaced. The new video adapter caused the computer to crash every half hour or so. Our dryer started making loud squeaking noises, and then stopped working completely on February 9. The color inkjet cartridge didn’t work even after it was refilled. (I ordered a replacement.)

Today, the repair technician came to look at our dryer and pronounced it dead. (I bought a new one, to be delivered Wednesday.) The replacement color inkjet cartridge arrived in the mail — and also didn’t work. (Apparently the printer is busted.) The replacement sun visor in my car broke in exactly the same way as the original one.

I should just give up, but I’m too stubborn to let a bunch of stupid machines defeat me. The crashing computer is now in the shop, and the TiVo arrived in Corpus Christi today for its overhaul. I bought replacement water hoses for our clothes washer (even though the original ones weren’t even broken yet!) and installed them today. I’ll have another go at fixing the leaky toilet sometime this week, probably buy a new inkjet printer as well. After the new dryer arrives and the computer and TiVo return home, they’ll undoubtedly meet with the new printer, the washer, the toilet, and the light fixtures to plan their next move.

Actually, I suspect that those devices are just the foot soldiers in this war; I’ll bet it’s really my computers that are doing all the planning and giving the orders. Even this one, the computer I’m typing on right now, is in on the plot. I know this because I discovered, as I logged onto Blogger, that the Tab key on its keyboard has stopped working. You’re all part of the conspiracy, aren’t you? Yes, dishwasher, I’m talking to you. Your drying cycle has never worked right. And you, microwave oven! I don’t trust you any more that your predecessor, the one that committed suicide by setting a potato on fire! I know you’re all out to get me! But I’m ready for you! I’ll —

Comments are closed.