Domestic woes - Ode to a fallen fridge

Thursday night we grabbed some beers out of the fridge to go with dinner, and Paul asked if mine was cold. "Nope." There was a long moment of staring at each other with a mixture of fear, hope, and knowing - we were off to the fridge. The top shelf was less than cold, but rest of fridge's temperature decreased steadily as one moved towards the crisper. The freezer was keeping things frozen. By Friday night, however, we had accepted the truth - something was amiss with our dear side-by-side Kenmore. Did this stop us from doing some 3-figure grocery shopping? 'Course not, we were having guests over Saturday night and something as mundane as a faulty appliance wasn't going to stop us.

Saturday morning rolled around, however, and we decided we were going to have to grapple with reality.

"What are we going to do about the fridge?"
"Call Zac. What other options do we have?"

Zac is our landlord, who owns the house and lives upstairs, but he and his wife are traveling around the Pacific NE and Canada in their "mobile estate" for a few months, while we're stuck with the less-than-considerate sub letters.

"Damn it. This is why I rent."

Why indeed. What will happen the day I actually have to confront a household problem - a clogged drain, any verity of vermin larger than a nickel, a faulty appliance - and there's no one I can call to do it for me, I'm not quite sure, but I'm not particularly looking forward to said day.

Paul moved the fridge from the wall and began a detailed cleaning process that involved those rarely used vacuum attachments, half a roll of paper towels, and a replacement electric toothbrush head jammed onto the end of a chopstick. Sadly, his struggles were in vein, and I attempted to prioritize our perishables, deeming yogurt a higher priority than margarine as I crammed as much dairy as possible into the red and white Playmate cooler (which, eBay informs me, is now considered a vintage model) while Paul struck a deal with someone off Craigslist for a replacement to be delivered the next day between 9 and 11.

Around 2:30 a whatever-is-the-opposite-of-proverbial man with a van arrived and dropped a fridge in the living room. I sat there on one of our many pieces of IKEA furniture, glanced up from the pages of the new Harry Potter book, and thought aloud:

There's a fucking fridge in my living room.

The combination made me feel slightly pikey, as Paul might say, and I glanced up at the white brick fireplace, half expecting to see a collection of Dale Earnhardt commemorative plates, or a frosted Busch Light mirror. I hope I never have this thought again, or if I do, that I'm at least sitting in a room filled with furniture from West Elm or Pottery Barn. The high thread count cushions would help soften the blow to my ego.

The fancy new fridge is sitting in its nook - and by fancy, I mean functional. I only knew the first fridge for a few weeks, but I miss it already. The sliding bins on the freezer side made me happy, keeping the meat separate from the microwave meals, with the cooler packs tucked snugly on the door. The ice maker, even if it didn't work, provided a nice place for us to chill our white wine Saturday night when the fridge part was approaching its final freon-less hours. I usually mourn shoes, not things one purchases at Sears, but I think we should respect those parts of our homes that make modern, civilized life possible. That fridge chilled more than one Coke Zero, and the first time I enjoyed the refreshing burst of an ice cold Fresca Peach Citrus washing over my taste buds - well the fridge was a big part of that. So farewell, fallen soldier. You did the name Kenmore proud, even though I'm sure we've both contemplated how things could have been different if you were a Maytag.

Whether the scrapyard is in your future, only time will tell. In the meantime, stand proud in the garage. Who knows, new uses for you may just be waiting to be discovered. God willing, perhaps the upstairs neighbors 4 lbs Chihuahua will make you his new favorite play toy and meet an untimely end after becoming "accidentally" trapped in your doors. One chapter of your life has come to an end, but a new one is just beginning. The possibilities are endless.