We all had a lot of fun. Is that so wrong?
Anyway, we had brunch the next day at her daughter's house, a cute dwelling built back in 1931. I was happy until I walked into the kitchen, where I saw the stove. THIS stove:
|Look at the dials - looks like an H.A. Rey drawing of a stove|
"Wow," I said to her husband. "I didn't think they made that kind of stove anymore."
"They don't," he said. "That's the original stove. It came with the house."
People, I was looking at a stove from 1931 that still worked. It was 83 YEARS OLD. Those of you who are long-time readers can understand my angst, can't you? Remember the crappy stove from 1983 that came with our house, that I finally had to put out of its misery? Remember the almost-new CraigsList stove we now own, the one whose oven insists on turning itself off at random?
Yet these people were sitting there using an 83-year-old stove. It just...rankles. What's so special about them? How come they don't kill every stove they come in contact with? Do I unknowingly bear an appliance curse? These are the thoughts that went through my head as I stared at this particular appliance that should, by logic, be in a museum, not a suburban NY kitchen.
"Can I take a picture?" I asked.
"What?" asked my startled host. "Um, sure. But why?"
Was there any good answer for that? Could I possibly explain to him that I needed to share this stove with you all, because you'd understand just how unfair this all is? I guessed that he didn't want to stand there and be regaled with all my tales of appliance woe, so I mumbled something about wanting to show it to Larry as I positioned my IPad for the shot. Then he and his wife showed me all the stove's neat features: a soup well, a stove-top broiler, the plate-warming device behind that little door to the right.
Salt in a wound, my friends, it was like salt in a wound. They truly have no idea...