Mom had a refrigerator that she got around the same year the Crankee Yankee was born. When the ‘fridge turned 65, she reluctantly gave it up and bought a new one. It of course had all the fancy-schmancy new features; ice cube maker, door storage, a larger freezer and so on. When I asked her how she liked it, she sniffed and said, ‘oh, that’s your father’s domain now. He’s bonded with it, so he can deal with it.’
While that still makes me laugh, it makes me think of refrigerators in general. What a wonder it is to have one, to be able to keep food fresh, to have ice when you want it, and so on. We’ve come a long way from having to stash our food in a snow bank and hope that the bears don’t get to it before we do.
Even the most modest of today’s refrigerators come with nifty shelves where you can stash your sauces, dressings, condiments and so on. They also come with a lot of space. While this is good, it is also a hazard. If you are anything like the Crankee Yankee and me, you may stash stuff way in the back of the refrigerator and then forget all about it. These items eventually turn into science projects and I am usually the one who cleans them out; YUCK.
These days there are refrigerators that will let you know what food item is going bad, and probably will shoot it out at you once it expires. I don’t think I want that close a relationship with a ‘fridge that smart. I’d begin to feel that it would start judging me and even make some snarky remarks behind my back.
I once read a story about a demon who had a refrigerator in which he enjoyed food from centuries past; nothing ever went bad in his demonic ‘fridge. Which makes me think of one of Stephen Wright’s monologues in which he says: “I once went to a restaurant where the slogan is ‘Breakfast Any Time.’ So I ordered french toast from the Renaissance.”
Makes you wonder if that came from that old devil’s refrigerator, doesn’t it?