Saturday, July 27, 2013

Requiem in blue

Y'all, my microwave died. A moment of silence:
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I had much love for my microwave. It was purty. That made me happy. It's not so easy to find a royal blue microwave, you know, but I had one, until it started making zzzzzting noises and causing the lights to go all blinky through a smoky gasping aura.


See how the counter under it is covered in bagel crumbs? That's because we used it so much for the defrosting of bagels, which in our house constitute a whole food group. We are reheaters, sure, but we're not much microwave cookers. I didn't ask too much of old Blue. Just defrost the kids' bagels. Melt some butter for popcorn. Stay purty and make me smile.

I could tell you that she was fifteen years old, and as microwaves go, she had a long and fulfilling life. I could tell you that she meant something to me as a token of my adulthood or independence, having been purchased so long ago for my first by-myself apartment as I began graduate school. Mostly, though, I just really liked having a blue microwave. You might be a person who doesn't put a lot of stock in the colors of things but this brought me actual happiness, having a blue microwave in a world of aluminum and black and white microwaves. I like color where color is unexpected. I like stopping to consider aesthetics when some might say considering function is enough. I appreciate that there are blue microwaves in the world, though tonight there is one fewer, and we are all diminished for it.

She wasn't even practical, hogging countertop in a counter-precious world. But I indulged her, because I loved her. Tomorrow I'll go order a generic over-the-range aluminum colored successor (not replacement, for there can be no such thing), but know this: if we somehow win the lottery, that boring over-the-range rectangle is going to the powder-coater for the brightest blue in all the color index.

Goodbye, old friend. You were kinda scary in those last minutes but aside from that I really loved you.


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