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Technology run amuck

This past weekend, I got a new washer and dryer.

My old washer and dryer were more than twelve years old and had traveled from Pennsylvania to Arizona.  When I got them, they were state of the art, front loading, high capacity, etc.  I liked them and they liked me.  I do all of the laundry at my house because I take it very seriously.  I have clothes that are over twenty years old.

The new washer and dryer each require an owner’s manual a half inch thick. They have on-board computers and memories. According to the instructions, there are sixteen gazillion combinations of settings to select from so that each load is washed perfectly and to your own exact standards.  This makes sense to those of us who are laundry aficionados.

Hey mom, I need my gasket cleaned

Hey mom, I need my gasket cleaned

But here’s something that doesn’t make sense – none at all: they each keep a DIARY of the last ten loads. You read that right – a DIARY.  Like a fifteen year old girl.  And get this, I can sync them up to my smart phone. I can call them up on my phone and read the diary.  Why on god’s green earth would anyone need to do that?  When have you ever in your life thought, “Hmmmmm, I wonder what settings I used on that load last Saturday?”

These are appliances, not new friends.  I’m not looking for friends, just clean clothes.  Now that I’m going to have to read their diaries, I feel like I have to name them.  Amy suggests Lucy and Ethel.  I’m going with that because OMG who has time to have a relationship with their washer and dryer???? If you ever come visit, Lucy is the dryer and Ethel is the washer. And because I don’t have enough being asked of me in my life – the washer will text me when it would like its gasket cleaned. I’d like to text someone too when I need my gasket cleaned . . .

Truthfully, I don’t know what I’m getting so excited about. The boy who lives at my house looked the text books over and said you can’t contact them when they’re busy.  Seriously? That sounds a lot like the children who live at my house.  I just hope they actually do laundry unlike the children who live here.

 

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