THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, January 6, 1995 TAG: 9501050177
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 07 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Over Easy
SOURCE: Jo-Ann Clegg
LENGTH: Medium: 83 lines
As I sit at my computer contemplating my future, I am once more reminded that there is a microwave in my kitchen.
``So what?'' you ask, ``don't most people have microwaves in their kitchens?''
Not in the middle of their kitchen floor they don't. At least not one that has also occupied the middle of the floor in three bedrooms, one sewing room, one family room, one den, two living rooms, one dining room and a basement.
Oh, and did I mention anything about one that has also traveled close to 500 miles, spent two nights in the trunk of a car and hasn't even been out of its box yet? Or that, in all probability, it will send the accounting department of a major department store into total overload?
You've heard of the man without a country? What I'm talking about is a microwave without a home.
I'm getting tired of looking at it. So is Charlie the Lhasa. And so is Bill, who has spent most of the holiday season carrying it from room to room, trunk to trunk and city to city.
This all started back before Thanksgiving when I went up to Arlington for a few days to take care of our new grandson, Alex. The kid did just fine. I did just fine. Andy and Kristin did just fine. Their 10-year-old microwave didn't.
``It's got one power level,'' Andy told me, ``something between off and defrost.'' Heating water for hot chocolate took five minutes, a plate of leftover moo goo gai pan took 20. Using the stove was faster. So was placing the food over a couple of birthday candles.
``Let's get the kids a new microwave for Christmas,'' I suggested to Bill when I returned home.''
``Great idea,'' he said, so we went right out and bought one. It had 10 power levels, separate buttons for pop corn, TV dinners, defrost and leftovers and a one-touch-on switch perfect for grabbing a frozen burrito in the 10 seconds it usually took Alex to get from first squeak to full-fledged howl.
We brought the microwave home, stored it in an empty bedroom and congratulated ourselves on having one major present taken care of so early in the season.
As the holidays progressed and family members came and went, we moved the box from room to room to get it out of the way until we could take it up to Andy and Kristin when we went for New Years.
The day after Christmas I discovered a microwave with more features on sale for less money at the same store. ``We'll exchange the one we got,'' Bill said as he carried the oven, still in its box, to the trunk of the car.
A half hour later, I had a change of heart. ``That one has all the features they want and the price difference isn't that much,'' I told Bill. ``Besides,'' I added, ``I mailed the payment today and returning it now would really foul up our account.''
A few days later I wrapped the microwave in Christmas paper, Bill moved it back into the trunk of the car and we carried it up to Arlington where Bill unloaded it for what was supposed to be the last time. There was a smile of relief on his face as he placed it under Andy and Kristin's Christmas tree.
Only when they opened it did we discover that they had already arranged to buy one, which could be installed under the cabinets above their stove.
With Alex howling, I popped a cup of instant coffee into their old microwave, set the timer for 10 minutes and watched as Bill and Andy carried the new one to the basement where it would stay until we were ready to return to Virginia Beach.
Yesterday I wrote Andy a check to be applied toward a built-in microwave and he and Bill carried the free-standing one back up the stairs and out to the car.
When we got home Bill unloaded it into the middle of the kitchen floor. ``The way I figure it, I've moved this thing 23 times in the last month. I am not carrying it one step further into the house,'' he said.
Tonight we will load it back into the car for what I sincerely hope is the last time, carry it back to the department store where we bought it and attempt to convince the powers that be that we should be able to get cash back for a 6-week-old credit card purchase so that we can cover the check we wrote to Andy.
If we're successful, we will come back home and luxuriate in the fact that we have moved the microwave for the last time.
If we're not, I'm afraid that there will be a very large sealed box in the middle of my kitchen for many years to come. by CNB