Ring, ring, ring…
“Hello”
“Is your refrigerator running?”
"Yes."
"Then you'd better go catch it!"
Click.
Remember that ol’ gag call? If you do, there's a good chance you’re as old as me and maybe even made a few of those yourself during one of your slumber parties while you ate Jiffy Pop and watched horror movies.
Sorry to ruin the punchline, but I’ve lost my sense of humour. That’s because life has been a lot lately. You know, when a lot of life gets packed into a week and you can’t help thinking that Someone could’ve scheduled things better.
The latest in a series of undesirable events happened when I reached for a cold glass of milk the other night. I noticed my fridge’s thermostat read 60°F. I try not to cry over spilled milk, but warm milk? That’s another story.
Seems I’ve opened the door to my refrigerator’s latest prank and I’ve heard it all before. Running? The thing was barely walking. I should have paid more attention to the signs: the familiar grinding noises – or worse, the silence; running warm one day, cold the next; worn-out gaskets hanging by a rubbery thread; the increased service calls. In a frantic rescue effort, I moved whatever I could salvage down to our basement fridge – that good ol’ reliable Amana with the top-mount freezer that cost us $400 and has never given us an ounce of trouble.
I realize appliances need to be serviced or replaced now and then. But our fridge is only ten years old! I know what you’re thinking: Ten years… what do you expect? Here’s what I expect – the same thing anyone my age expects: appliances should last longer than this! I’ll spare you the usual gripe about how they don’t make things like they used to, before apps, touch-screen controls and see-through doors, and how the industry is rigged.
We once owned a cottage with an old Moffat fridge from the ‘50s; it was sturdy and curvy, with a single door and a solid chrome latch that meant nothing was getting in or out without a fight.
Sadly, nobody will ever have our current fridge as a cottage hand-me-down or talk about how “they don’t make ‘em like they used to”...or how it still works!
After much debate, we decide maybe it’s time to give this thing Last Rites, conceding that, in fridge years, it’s had a good run. Yes, we’ve had ten years together – good and faithful servant – but we’re cooling on you now. Those strange noises you’re making? You’re losing control! Plus, you’ve needed an awful lot of care and attention lately. Look, you’re getting old and, frankly, a bit obsolete. Father Time is getting his due, as he always does – a reminder that life is short. Goodbye, my monogram friend. Service is cancelled.
Why does everything have to remind me of aging? Maybe because most conversations lately revolve around bodies breaking down, what things used to cost, and how nobody seems to care.
I've now entered that paralyzing appliance showroom experience – where there are too many choices and everyone’s an expert, yet no one agrees.
“Don’t buy this brand; it’s junk,” says one associate, while another tells me the same brand scores highest in customer satisfaction. Through all the confusion, I turned to the fount of all truth and knowledge – the internet – where I found horror stories about failed compressors, water leaks, faulty motherboards, and costly repairs.
Why can’t I get one like my old one, except, you know, functional?
After two full days of showroom-hopping, I narrowed the choice to a few models only to discover, after reading those mind-numbing technical specs online, that none would fit in our space. That’s because they all came with super-thick doors with extra-deep storage shelves and that trendy door-inside-a-door for your condiments – because apparently, everyone needs easy access to ketchup and mustard. *Sigh* All this door stuff requires an extra 3” of space we don’t have!
Apparently, everyone needs easy access to ketchup and mustard
To make matters worse, the height of our existing fridge cavity is only 71 inches. Will we even have enough air clearance for any of these new fridges? The standard seems to be 72 inches. Now we’re in a pickle (which is kept in a separate condiments door, don’t you know). For the sake of ONE inch, we’ll have to modify the cabinet above our fridge to allow for proper venting.
Suddenly, this is turning into a small-scale renovation project.
Crying begins now.
So what does this all mean? I’ll tell you what it means: it means we’ll need to spend more money – a lot more – to find a fridge that fits our existing space. Welcome to that “posh” appliance market — a place where you can show everyone how much money you have, which is the fastest way to have less money!
Suddenly I need a good cool-down.
Now we’re down to just two models that could fit our space. One was competitively priced but ugly; the other, significantly more expensive, was beautifully designed and engineered with a promise to match. I drag my husband back to the showroom for one last look at the finalists. Then, my husband – who is smarter than me and always thinks big picture – turns to me and says, “We can’t afford to buy cheap.” He loves to pull this line out when we want to justify buying anything expensive that needs to last a long time. And of course he’s right. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve saved ourselves from making a huge mistake by avoiding purchases based solely on price. While we can wait for most things, we can’t wait for a fridge.
But... there’s still the issue of that ONE inch.
Before scheduling a delivery date, we consulted our cabinet maker about modifying the upper cabinet to ensure we have adequate clearance for our new fridge. While we initially anticipated a minor adjustment, we were informed that the cabinet would need to be removed and completely rebuilt. And... he can’t come out for another couple of weeks. That means it’s up and down the stairs to the good ol’ basement Amana for a drink or a snack or to gather what we need to pull together a meal.
The day before our cabinet maker arrived, I started having second thoughts – not about the fridge, but about the need to rebuild our cabinet. I went back online, searched the clearance requirements for the new fridge, and thought… Maybe we already have enough clearance! I grabbed the tape measure and checked the opening another half-dozen times. Then I said to my husband, “Y’know hon, I think it may fit after all.” I won’t share his response, but it started with, “For G-d sakes Cath!” (I told you it’s been a rough week.)
I immediately called to cancel our cabinet maker, hoping that once the fridge arrived, it would fit with the required clearances. It was a bit of a gamble – we risked having a giant metal box sitting in the middle of our kitchen for weeks until he could return. But we decided that redoing the cabinet was too costly not to at least give this a shot.
The next day our fridge arrived. It’s beautiful and stainless and full of hope, just like a newborn. And it fits!
Yes, my refrigerator’s running, folks! No more mischievous pranks for a while.
Thankfully, stories are food that don’t need refrigeration.
