Dirty Dishes and a Fridge on the Fritz
There are a plethora of films and performances that center on writing. From Capote to Misery, Adaptation to Stranger Than Fiction, and so many more to choose from, it’s a wonder that time after time, the one that I come back to is Finding Forrester.
There is a scene where Sean Connery has his young protege, played by Rob Brown, start keying out a passage from a previous work to break thru writer’s block. Merely the act of writing, writing anything, is often like a rider in the Tour de France getting a push from a member of his team or a fan on the side of the road. Just a little help to get started.
Speaking of iconic, a less-appreciated Connery film.
Anyway, I do not have a Sean Connery-like mentor whose work I can use as a push, so instead, I write about Sean Connery in Finding Forester, which always allows me to think of the famous “You’re the man now, dog” scene. Iconic stuff.
Long story short, that was pedaling downhill.
All spring long, my dishwasher produced dishes dirtier than they were when they started. Cups would be covered in detritus that looked like lawn clippings, silverware caught up in leftover pieces of lettuce from who knows where. After many filter rinses and dishwasher deep cleanses, we finally caved and bought a new one. It was on sale for Memorial Day, and we said: YOLO. One of the chores I am committed to owning around the house is dishwasher duty. This is temporarily on hold as my mother-in-law is visiting, and she routinely shoos me away from the appliance when I start trying to empty it, but when she’s gone, I’ll be back at it. Pretty pumped to have a new dishwasher.
That was to be our significant seasonal expenditure. In fact, I said to Leen, “Let’s just do this now because I am like 80% sure we’re going to need new tires in the winter, and I do not want to be waffling between new wheels or clean dishes come November.”
We enjoyed the dishwasher for about two weeks, then went on a two-week Out of Home adventure (I refuse to call what we did a vacation), and then returned this past weekend. On Wednesday morning, all the popsicles were mush, and the cheese was sort of… soggy? I was convinced my nephews had futzed with the thermometer on the fridge, so I first blamed them and, second, adjusted the therms down to a temp that ought to make it cold again.
A few hours later, I noticed a not-insignificant puddle at the base of the fridge. “Ice melting from the ice maker, I reckon,” I told no one in particular as I toweled it up. Went back a little later.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Dead Fridge, Dirty Dishwasher
The water kept going. The freezer was not freezing. Everything was melting further. You know that line people use about falling in love? It was like that but for melt.
It happened slowly, then all at once.
By early afternoon, I had absolved the nephews of any futzing and instead turned the corner to LOCATING A REPAIR MAN to solve this issue ASAP.
Well, the joke was on me because, in Joe Biden’s America, you cannot find a repairman. More accurately, the first one I called said: I don’t work on LG because they’re garbage. And the second I called said: go ahead and google “LG Class Action Lawsuit and you’ll see why I don’t work on LGs.” To his credit, the second one explained what happened to LG and what I should do about my broken fridge.
He said, you either got three options.
Cut and run. Get a new one. Forget the old one exists. It’s dead, and it’s not coming back.
Call LG and see if they’ll help you navigate the warranty and get you a repairman, maybe covering it or part of it. But if you’re not the original owner and know nothing about the purchase, maybe a wild goose chase.
Bypass LG, contact one of the three repairmen up here who contract out with LG to do their repairs and be prepared to pay upwards of $1500 to fix the compressor.
Luckily, a local retailer was still celebrating their 4th of July sale 8 days after the 4th of July, and I walked into his showroom 3 hours before close. He and I started the dance of getting a new rig that fits right and had all the amenities I needed, and two hours later, we sealed the deal with 0% interest over the next 18 months.
But here’s where it gets tricky, and let me ask you what you’d do.
Option 1. He could deliver and install it in three weeks, plus haul the old one away.
Option 2: Delivery in three days, but then up to me to get it in the house, install it and get the old one out.
What would you pick?
We went with option 2.
My boys need cheese. And I wouldn’t say I like living out of a cooler. It’s like living out of a suitcase but colder.
I’ll document the move-in process via Threads, Instagram, and general shouting and cursing, so stay tuned for more.
And now the dumps.
Just kidding.
This is not a dump. Since Twitter is dead (IMO), and I’ve been gone, I no longer know where to read interesting things. I have to get back into the mindset of finding things to read instead of letting them come to me. It’s like the early Internet days again. Sort of wild. How do you find engaging content that isn’t just Reels and TikToks? Dunno.
I’ll keep you posted.
