Here’s a thing:

"I will go home on the bus for all"

I don’t know what it means, but I find it vaguely inspiring.

This may be the start of a new series, “Wisdom from Elvis’s Whiteboard.”


So I have this new washer and dryer.  It’s pretty exciting.  The most exciting thing about getting them is that we ended up cleaning the floor underneath the old washer and dryer.  Not terribly thoroughly, since we only had the time between the moment the delivery guys took out the old appliances and the moment the delivery guys installed the new appliances, but close enough for horseshoes.  (That is an expression.  We don’t usually play horseshoes in the laundry room, or anywhere on the premises.  Don’t ask me what the expression means.  I just say it.)

Girlfriend, upon seeing the new appliances, exclaimed, “Mommy, these are great!”  Elvis, who has been my laundry wing-man for a few months now, has not shown much interest in the new washer and dryer, which I find odd.  Maybe he finds the abundance of settings overwhelming.  Here’s the thing about buying a new washer and dryer these days–as I was telling Susan M, you can’t really find a large-capacity washer or dryer that is not all fancy with electronic gadgetry and all kinds of bells and whistles that our mother’s generation somehow managed to clean clothes without.  I’m a simple girl; I like simple appliances.  When we were shopping for appliances last Friday, I kept rejecting the ones with electronic panels, until I realized that if I wanted a washer/dryer large enough to handle six people worth of dirty clothes, and not a small washer/dryer suitable for apartment living, I was going to be stuck with an electronic panel.  To me, an electronic panel is just one more thing to go wrong; more specifically, it is THE thing to go wrong, if something will go wrong.  I never met an electronic panel that didn’t want to go wrong in some way.  That is how you end up with appliances that don’t work when you need them to.  Those are the kinds of appliances I don’t want.  But it appears that I shall be dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century, after all, because I am also not wanting to buy a washer that will only hold three bath towels.  (I had one of those once.  I won’t go back.)

Anyway, we bought a middle-of-the-line washer and dryer with a more minimalist approach to bells and whistles.  Some of the washers and dryers we looked at, I kid you not, they had, like, thirty-five settings on them.  I can’t imagine how one gets any laundry done with that many choices.  All I want are some dials and maybe a button to push.  I don’t want to have to program my washer.  Why would I want my washer to be more like my VCR?  But I guess I am in the minority.  Anyway, we bought a very nice set–they’re Samsungs, which disturbed Sugar Daddy a little bit, because in his world Samsung makes TVs, not washers and dryers.  But as the salesperson told us, just in case we missed the big sign on the unit itself, Samsung has been the top-rated choice of consumers for the past two years.  Who knew?  Probably people who have bought washing machines and dryers more recently than we have.  But anyway, they’re a very nice set, and they’re reasonably intuitive from a user-interface standpoint, which I like.  The washer plays a little tune after it finishes the final spin cycle, which I think is odd, and I don’t doubt that later I will be scouring the house for the owner’s manual so I can look up how to disable that feature, but I’ve decided to find it charming for the time being.

SD said he was talking with a co-worker about his new laundry machine, and the co-worker said, “Is it one of those front-loaders?  We got one of those a couple years ago.  It changed my wife’s life.”  And I thought, “Changed her life?  That’s hardcore.”  It made me wonder what she was using for a washing machine before–a scrub board and a creek?  But I will admit, the Samsung is a fine machine.  SD called from California yesterday and asked me how it was working out.  I told him it changed my life.  But I was mostly just messing with him.


A conversation in the car

Girlfriend:  Mama, which one is for going and which one is for stopping?

Mad:  What are you talking about?

Girlfriend (in her DUH MOM voice):  Argh!  Those things where your feet go!

Mad (realizing she means the brake and gas pedals):  Oh!  This one’s go and this one’s stop.

Girlfriend:  Okay, Mama.  I’ll remember that when I get older.