I have had no contact from Maytag and I am heading out to the laundromat. And to make me even happier, some people commented on my picture on Facebook being not really changed. So when I washed my face, I looked closely in the mirror and ACK ACK, I am getting crepe paper wrinkles on my cheeks. I am suspecting I had my Grandmother Grismore’s good skin gene, but it turned off.

Oh, I’ll cheer up eventually, but right now I feel like putting my head in the fixed washer, if and when it is fixed.  Agitate the heck out of those wrinkles and then spin them to kingdom come.

My attention was drawn to Facebook today and someone had done a few of those “what type of person are you” little apps. I was just going to do the one . . . and then I got sucked in. I hope I quit before I got too far behind the 8 ball. I will say this, some of the results triggered my trademark really large grin.

I’ve said before that my husband says when I grin, he is afraid the upper part of my  head is just going to fall off backwards. I think that remark causes me to squish my mouth up in a sulky pout. However, he may have something there: When I was out for lunch with relatives and we came out of the Country Club really picturesque restaurant and were separating to go to different cars, I heard one cousin say, “There’s that grin.” I had to stop myself from looking behind me on the pavement to see if the top of my head was there.

Ah, no I didn’t. I made that up; studies have shown that 99 out of 100 times, my head stays where it is, grin or not. However, 9 out of 10 doctors have suggested that flesh colored duct tape might be an extra safeguard.

I probably need to stop typing now and slowly back away from the keyboard.

I think you work for Whirlpool, the company that owns Maytag and you helped Dooce with her problem. Are you there?

I should have read what Dooce had to say about her Maytag experience in 2009. If you’re interested, you can read the saga HERE.

UH, THAT EXCERPT UP THERE – IT’S KIND OF MY FAVORITE PART OF THE POST.

And here’s another excerpt from her post:

I get a phone call from Jeff Piraino, manager of the executive offices of Whirlpool Corporation in Michigan.

BOO-YAH!

That, my friends, is service.

And he is incredibly nice, very apologetic, very helpful, and like any good therapist listens to why I am so upset. And the kicker: HE UNDERSTANDS WHY. So then he himself calls a different repair company and has a guy come out within the hour to look at the machine. And so I go put on a nursing bra to look presentable.

That guy assesses immediately that three parts need to be replaced, and he and Jeff at the headquarters in Michigan work it out that the parts will be overnighted and he can come back today and fix it. (currently waiting for him… UPDATE: he is here… waiting… waiting…FIXED! He FIXED IT! He FIXED IT! RAIN CAME BACK! RAIN CAME BACK!)

Oh my God, this is all I ever wanted. Seriously. Thank you Maytag. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jeff Piraino. My $1,300 washing machine is now working, and I can finally shut up about it. THE INTERNET THANKS YOU.

So I contacted Whirlpool and the chat lady said she had no idea who Jeff Piraino was.

JEFF PIRAINO: WHERE ARE YOU?  You are needed again.

I’m calling this Day One because it simplifies things. Actually, this is the first day after my Maytag Bravos washer – purchased in October of last year – was declared a mess, due to defective seal leaking onto the transmission by an approved certified Maytag repairman. It took about a week to get said repairman here, but we’ll start with today as the the official Maytag ‘actual repair countdown.

Of course, it is early in the morning and they will have all day to call me and talk about fixing it. After all, I online chatted with a representative as soon as the repairman left and this is the age of zip, zip, zip communication.

I could be feeling sarcastic; that last sentence doesn’t indicate contentment. I also could be feeling P_____ Off, but maybe the cranberry juice I’m drinking will help that. Oh, yeah, sarcasm.

Ah yes, the old hurry up and wait and then do it again routine. As I wrote earlier, my Maytag Bravos started screeching and I had to wait for an authorized, certified Maytag repairman. I waited about a week. He came on one of those “all day appointments” – you have to be available all day and if you are not, toooooo bad.

Well, finally he gets here and he starts the machine and it screeches; he tilts it up and shines a light under it and does this whirring thing with an automatic screwdriver or undriver as it were, and says the transmission is a mess. A seal in the tub leaked water and there you go . . .

He has to report it; then there is the wait for parts; it may have to go to the shop; Maytag doesn’t want to pay for that. Sigh

The repairman, who is older, maybe close to my age, then starts rubbing his chest and wincing. I’m thinking . . . Well, you know what I’m thinking. He asks for a glass of water and says that helps. The pain is perhaps esophageal. I didn’t delay him with a bunch of washer questions.

I log into my Maytag account and “chat” with a representative. Do you know they are very polite online and tell you how terribly sorry they are that your four month old machine failed catastrophically. And, no, your warranty doesn’t cover just swapping it out for a replacement. That would save the company too much money, of course; better to have workmen try to patch it together. Yes, the come part – that will take a while and they don’t want to send more than one man and the machine has to be completely taken apart.

It will be laundromat time for moi; I will probably be writing a continuing lamentation about Maytag reliability and service. Now there’s a muse for you.

I didn’t really skip Valentine’s Day; I was here. What happened is that I decided to give myself a Valentine treat by doing nothing. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I just dropped my grandson off at the Strand Theater here in town. He’s seeing Deadpool, which probably isn’t my cup of tea, but then we both like Casablanca and classic movies, so it’s not like we can’t talk about anything.

It’s kind of ironic because just a couple of days ago I was telling someone about the old-fashioned, but clean and renovated theater we have here, thanks to Bruce Babbitt. I interviewed him a long time ago and, he really deserves the town’s thanks.

Matinee prices are $3 – and for the evening shows, the price is $4.50. The Martian was here soon after it came out. Star Wars was here when it opened. Did I mention my grandson wore Star Wars themed pants to stand in line for the movie?

Popcorn refills are 75 cents; I think pop refills are a quarter. YOU CANNOT BEAT HIS PRICES.

There are times when people do not realize how lucky they are in the smaller things in life.

Bigger city movie multiples may have lots of bells and whistles, but the Strand is an example of America at its best.

I have talked to a service representative and my problem with the screeching washer is covered by a warranty. Yes. Yes. Yes. She was very nice and was talking from Tennessee. We went through all sorts of troubleshooting scenarios, such as humming noises and beeping and leveling and my screech was not in the manual.

The people who came running from all over the house will be glad to know that. IAM GLAD TO KNOW THAT. WARRANTY!!!!!
Almost as good as CHUNKIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!