Thursday, March 3, 2011

How The Maytag Guy Let Me Down

My list of heroes is short one name today: Maytag Guy. The Maytag Guy is finished, history, trashed, 86’d, dead to the just and lucid.  I can’t believe he ever made fourth on my list of all-time greats. 

Being a child of the 70s, I had a wealth of predictable personalities on my list of heroes.  First was David Soul, due to his sensitive nature and my lack of experience in spotting the early signs of male pattern baldness.  Then I listed Evel Knievel.  His outfits were to die for.  The style set the tone for all middle school boys who were struggled with their sexual identity.  Al Pacino, who probably should have been 1st on the list up until Godfather III, was third and preceded the man who I thought was the true master actor of our 19 inch RCA .  His name was Jesse White, the Maytag Man.
The Maytag Man was not just a character to me.  He was the guy who would take me away from those long hours of washing, drying, and stacking, or as most people call them Wednesdays.  He possessed a machine that would do all my chores during Bonanza and peanut butter toast hour.  He was the dream of every young girl ravaged by the early symptoms O.C.D. in America.  He was the promise of a better life.  
Now, after many years of KitchenAids, Kenmore’s, General Electrics and an occasional HotSpot, I have in my kitchen the best editions of all Maytag appliances.  Also, after many years of disillusioning commercials, I discover it was all a lie.  This robust dirt demolisher is a delicate daisy that couldn’t wipe the fingerprints off a butter knife.  Literally, they are not coming off!  The bread board still has crumbs on it after a 2 hour wash cycle.  The dishes are actually dirtier coming out than they were going into the Maytag, and the stupid thing won’t even wash the soap out of the dispenser!  O that this too solid gunk would melt, thaw and resolve itself down a drain.   But the Maytag Quiet Series 3000 has no intention of removing nay a spec from any dish.  It’s as effective as a whispering fire alarm.  No wonder the Maytag Man was always sitting down.  What’s the point in trying to fix a product that was doomed to fail?
The Maytag repairman was “the loneliest guy in town”.  Damn right you were lonely!  That’s because Tom, Dick and Roland paid top dollar for a machine, only to listen to their wives gripe about it all week. You’re lucky you were just lonely and not beaten with a ten inch pipe.  After spending an hour doing last night’s and this morning’s dishes, I’d like to take you out to a dark alley and leave you for dead.
Maytag Guy, your offense is rank and smells to heaven.  I shall be removing you from my desk album and my list of “Heroes: The Early Years”.  I now feel nothing for you.

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