As someone who hails “from the 1900s,” I feel both ancient and not quite old enough to be this jaded. I always knew there would come a moment when I would feel old.
I realize that when “kids today” use the term “back then,” they could be referring to anywhere between the Paleozoic era and 1998. Now I get it. I think this is that moment. I am officially in my “they don’t make things like they used to” era.
Steamy
Our hot water tank went rogue over the weekend. The temperature went from steaming hot water — that frankly scared me — to lukewarm. I cannot scrub cast iron in lukewarm water. I’m no expert but that didn’t seem right.
The truth is I really could not even be angry about it. We installed that water heater shortly after we moved to this old house. That was in 1996. My calendar says that was 29 years ago. This is outrageous because I feel like 30 years ago was 1970. I’ve never been good with math though. What do I know?
I set to work shopping for a new hot water tank. How hard can that be? I found out very quickly that the new hot water heaters come with a 6-year warranty. Speaking to friends who have replaced hot water tanks already that were installed in 2018, I was shocked.
Shouldn’t something as large and costly as a hot water heater last longer than a pair of socks?
I’m pretty sure some appliances from the 1980s (and earlier) were built to outlast us all. They are time immemorial. Come to think of it, my great-grandmother’s refrigerator from 1947 actually did last well over 50 years.
It probably helped that many years ago, many people bought from a small merchant in town and probably went to church or social gatherings with said merchant and their family. If they sold products that started breaking down in a few years, there would be a lot of angry neighbors. Now, we seem to just shrug and deal with it.
Of course we have owned two separate pickup trucks that lasted nearly two decades and over 200,000 miles each. One is legendary for being the vehicle we dated in, then drove to our wedding in and then drove our firstborn home from the hospital in before finally teaching that same boy to drive in that very same truck. We loved it beyond reason and drove it until the wheels, quite literally, fell off. A second truck was equally reliable.
Then, we decided to splurge and upgrade to a nearly new model just a few years ago. It has been such a pain in the neck, and wallet, that I presume it is possessed by demons and treat it accordingly. Why were we buying a new transmission — among other things — on a nearly new vehicle?
I am still muttering about that dang truck. We will probably never be friends at this point. I’m bitter that something so bulky is apparently so delicate.
You know my next statement is going to be that to add insult to injury, these new items are difficult to work on ourselves. By “our” selves I mean Mr. Wonderful, of course. He’s a whiz with tools and can fix almost anything, but when the inner workings of some computer part that tells your truck to start goes offline, that isn’t something you can repair in the backyard.
Cursing at it doesn’t work either. I know. I tried. Normally I like to take the high road, but my high road currently has a breakdown lane.
I was facing the fact that we had reached the end of an era — and the line — with our circa 1996 hot water heater. Then Mr. Wonderful, with toolbox in hand, started poking around. Crisis averted. False alarm! The hot water tank was fine. The thermostat was not, but it was a $40, 40-minute repair. That man of mine is so handy.
So we are grateful for being back in hot water. I’m also quite thankful that some things from the 1900s — such as a very handy husband and hot water tank thermostats — are still going strong.
