Thursday, December 07, 2006
The Coffee Maker Saga
We are embarking on a milestone in our marriage. Not our twenty-fifth anniversary, something more profound. Possibly our third Coffee Maker. Our first one, a wedding gift lasted about 15 years. It survived a half dozen moves sitting on CP's lap and about 5 replacement carafes. I kept that Black and Decker baby going with a dozen high colonic flushes with muriatic acid, a few spliced wires (who needs that pesky over-heat kill switch anyway) and a couple new wall plugs. But one day after months of groaning and hissing it just burst into flames and seized up.
Our next Black and Decker was the thermal carafe type. I think CP first coveted this model while we visited MD. Well, to my horror, after only ten years of faithful service the little plastic flapper valve in the basket dissolved. This causes a little mess when it keeps dribbling when the pot is removed or when you go to toss the grounds out. Now I threatened to go online and get a replacement part from B&D but CP won't stand for it. It went something like this "just because you were raised during the Great Depression does not mean I can't get a new coffee pot every ten years". While in Las Vegas CP fell in love with my sister's Cuisinart Brew Station. Well I caved (after being put on hold withB&D three times) and set out buy the same one for her for Christmas. I surfed the web, went to Biz-Rate, Shopzilla, Amazon and even the Sam's Club in Asheville. I found it online for $100 with free shipping and no sales tax so I ordered it early to make sure it would arrive for Christmas. It arrived Monday. Today we went to a New Sam's Club in Hooterville and Carol points out to me the coffee maker I just received on my doorstep. Slowly I turn to look down the the aisle while saying to myself "Lord please don't let it be too much cheaper". But there it was for $69. Thanks a lot, CP. A kind person would have thrown her body over the price tag as if it were a hand grenade. I went and drowned my despair in Sam's Club's free samples. When you get to be a "middle aged white guy who knows everything" there are no more dragons to slay; there's just bargains to find. Damn You Sam's Club!