Bruised Bums & Holes in the Wall

May 20, 2014.Reading time 3 minutes.

Whatever happened to quality? Back in my day, companies used to stand behind what they made. Things just lasted longer. There were warranties and repair shops for TV’s and appliances instead of everything being disposable. Nowadays, we just buy things and no matter how much we pay, we expect to have to replace them in five to seven years. It’s downright sad.

Shoddy workmanship coupled with new appliance styles and colors released every few years means none of us will ever be able to keep up. In my adult life they started as white, went to black, and now one is considered below the poverty line unless they have stainless steel. They’ve got this scam perfected. When your microwave goes out, instead of getting it repaired you have to replace it. And since it will no longer match your other kitchen appliances, the broken microwave ends up costing you $4000 for upgrading the entire kitchen.

Forget that mess, I have a white microwave with a broken handle, a black oven, and stainless dishwasher and refrigerator. I figure my cheapness gives me a wider spectrum of color in my kitchen and possibly a disappointed wife, but I refuse to give in to their madness.

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I really didn’t start this rant to vent about kitchen appliances, we took a detour there. I’m angry about specs and tolerances. If packaging says the wire I am purchasing has a tensile strength of 1200 MPa, I figure I should easily be able to get 1250-1300 MPa out of it before it breaks. Or if my pneumatic nail gun recommends a range of 90-120 PSI, I think 130 PSI will make sure the sucker holds.

So it speaks to shoddy quality that a towel bar designed to hold 4 pounds of wet towel wouldn’t be able to keep a flailing, 210-pound man upright. It stands to reason that this should have been well within the tolerance of a reasonably made product, don’t you think?

I discovered this defect after our bathroom was rearranged for our new cat’s needs. The bath mat was not returned to its proper place and my wet foot slid out from under me upon exiting the shower. I desperately grabbed the towel bar only to find what inspector number seven did not. It wouldn’t hold when tested and tumbled down onto the cold wet tile alongside of me.

What is this world coming to when manufacturers don’t care about quality anymore? I tell you what it’s coming to: bruised bums and holes in the wall, THAT’s what this world is coming to.

It’s a darn shame…

The King of Feminine Hygiene

May 13, 2014.Reading time 4 minutes.

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I have been a good errand runner for many years. I have never minded getting those “things” that need to be got. However, the situation can be comical. Early in our marriage, I learned brand preference – often taking a boxtop as a crutch to make sure. Everything changed after our first daughter was born and the new mama needed something different. My mind isn’t programmed for different.

There I stood looking at an infinite wall of products with no idea what to purchase. I am sure she had given me instructions, but I had no purchase history, no boxtop, no clue. The wall got bigger and bigger while I shrunk into a puddle of indecision.

Until I was rescued by a wonderfully kind, large woman who took pity on me.

“You need some help, honey?” she asked.

“Well, yes, is it that obvious?” I stammered.

“It sure is. What’s the problem?”

“Well, I need to get something for my wife. We just had a baby.”

Her angelic face lit up with joy, “Oh, sweety! How wonderful! Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We had a little girl,” I replied proudly as I dug a picture out to show her.

“She’s just beautiful,” she said. And as if she suddenly plugged into an amplifier, her voice boomed throughout the store while I shrunk even smaller. “WHAT YOU NEED IS NIGHT TIME EXTRA-ABSORBANT…..”

I’ve forgotten whatever else she said. It went on for some time, I think. I will forever appreciate her help, but I have no idea why she had to tell everyone in a five mile radius of the store what I was shopping for. She was spot on with her advice, though.

I was only twenty-eight then. Why it mattered I don’t know. I couldn’t care less now. I have had to do a great deal of shopping lately – and with a wife and three teenage daughters, yes, I have purchased quite a few of those types of products. I don’t flinch anymore. In fact, I like to check out wherever a young boy is working give him to he stink-eye as he handles the carton. I have made more than one blush.

Better yet, when I come home I have even more fun by announcing, “I got your feminine hygiene products.” There is never a “daddy’s home!” parade for that proclamation. No one comes running. They don’t want to hear that from their father. So I deliver them personally to their rooms and make the announcement individually. Lots of rolled eyes and groans.

I don’t mind buying that stuff anymore, but I do have one regret. With four daughters, why didn’t I have the forethought to invest in that stock? If I had done that, I truly would be the King of Feminine Hygiene!