The Reluctant Repairman

A few days ago, I discovered that our clothes dryer wasn't drying clothes. The drum was turning, and the blower was blowing, but all it was blowing was cold air. There was a time, not long ago, when my solution to this problem would have been simple: call the repairman. But these tough times make that solution a last resort.

Our dryer is part of a so-called "laundry center" (which most appliance people just call an apartment stack), a washer and dryer in one tall unit. A little online research pointed to the dryer's failure being an electrical problem. Me, knowing a little something about electricity, figured that I could probably handle that. A quick look at the electrical diagram revealed about six different failures that could turn off the heat without turning off the turning, so to speak.

The first three involved house wiring and the power cord. I've been working with house wiring and power cords since I was around William's age, so I felt very comfortable there. I tested the breakers, the line voltage, and checked the power connection. Everything was fine. I had mixed feelings about that, because it was all my work, and it was comforting to know that it was all working well, but on the other hand, any of those would have been easy for me to fix.

The other three failure points all required some measure of laundry center disassembly to check. Fortunately (or unfortunately, since it took away my excuse for just calling an expert), I found a complete service manual online. I love the Internet.

I had to take apart a lot of stuff, but I finally found the problem, as soon as I looked at it: a burned out heating element, visibly broken in one spot. I've ordered the part and should be putting it all back together in a few days. With manual in hand, I've confident that I can do a proper job of it, and have the dryer back to work for the weekend. Albeit slowly.

Although it's satisfying to be able to do these things, it's also annoying not to be able to call in a pro when I need to and just get on with my own work, which, when I'm not doing time scanning tests, consists of trying to jumpstart Karen's craft business, and creating writing and video that, we are hoping, will give us little bits of royalty income down the line.

But until any of these things starts generating cash, here I am, screwdriver in hand, trying to keep my major appliances running.

As an aside, another thing I found out while the dryer was on the fritz, is that laundromats have become incredibly expensive. I took three loads of the clothing we needed most into town and my pockets were about twelve bucks lighter by the time I was done. Which makes repairing the dryer one great bargain.

Even if I did have to do it myself.

Happy Birthday To Me!

On Friday we began a celebration of the 55th anniversary of the day I was born. The only, very minor, disappointment of the day was that I failed to win the Mega Millions lottery which was drawn on my birthday. Tragic, I know, but I'm willing to bet that no one whose birthday falls on April 20th won that jackpot either (a safe bet since the jackpot rolled over).

On the other hand, I made out great. Friday I had dinner, alone, with my lovely wife, and then dessert at home with Karen and the boys. It was banana cream pie (much better, in my opinion, than cake) with a bowling ball and pins on it, hinting at my gift from the family: a day at the bowling alley. (I should explain to my New England friends that I refer to ten-pin; the whole candlepin thing leaves me cold.)

We each bowled two lines, and then Tom and I each bowled an additional game. I did very well for someone who gets to bowl at most twice a year (the alley is about an hour's drive away, and it's the only ten-pin alley in central New Hampshire); I averaged 152 over three games.

After bowling we headed toward another rare treat: dinner at the Tilt'n Diner, in Tilton. Tom and I used to eat there a lot when we were here in the summers, and when we were bachelors waiting for Karen and William to move from California at the end of Karen's last picture in 2001.

Before we got to Tilton, however, Karen saw Kellerhaus, a candy and ice-cream place that we've heard about many times, but never tried. So we tried. You get to make your own sundae, and boy, was that fun. We'll be going back.

So, bowling, ice cream, great diner food (Karen and I shared roast beef and Tom had a Bison burger, while the boys got baked macaroni and cheese and hot dogs)—what could top that? A night at the theater with Karen, to see the Village Players put on Noel Coward's "Hay Fever."

Turning 55 was so much fun, I wish I could do it again!