I can just barely remember one of the few times that we hopped in the car and drove a couple of hours to arrive at Disneyland. It was a day of wonderment and joy in a young girl’s life. At the end of the really long day, we stopped to ogle all of the wonders displayed in the gift shops along Main Street. I desperately wanted something…anything…with a princess on it*, yet I knew that we could only afford to window shop.
The Christmas after that Disney trip, something magical happened, Santa brought me a beautiful Cinderella watch. It was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen in my young life and I simply adored it. Every night, before going to sleep, I faithfully wound my new treasure up to keep her running smoothly. I was more than happy to flash my beauty to anyone and proudly tell them exactly what time it was.
Thinking about it now, I have no idea what happened to my Cinderella watch. I suppose I eventually outgrew it and felt I needed to move beyond such childish things.
After that watch, I went through a succession of much more “grown up” watches. Only…they never seemed to work quite right for me. Despite the claims that some of my watches would “take a lickin’ and keep on tickin'” , none of them would seem to keep proper time for me. The only thing different about these newer watches (beyond the obvious lack of royalty) was that they didn’t need to be wound every night as they came with a new-fangled contraption called a battery.
When I heard that some people emitted a strange electromagnetic pulse that caused electronics to stop working, I knew that’s what was happening with my watches. My watch was worn on my wrist…right where they take your pulse! (I knew this because of my True Love, Johnny Gage) Coincidence? I think not.
It did seem a little strange to me that I didn’t seem to effect other electronics such at the radio, TV or microwave. (Then again, they weren’t right on my pulse) It soon became apparent to me that my wonky electromagnetic pulse only effected things that I had intimate daily contact with. Like my watch…or my coffee pot.
It’s true, no matter how careful I am, I can’t seem to keep a coffeepot alive for much more than a year. (No, I don’t wear my coffeepot strapped to my wrist, but I do enjoy having coffee pulse through my veins) Right now, I honestly can’t think of anything worse than waking up ready for that first cup of morning coffee to find nothing but a cold, empty pot.
A couple years ago, somebody mentioned that there are other brands of coffee makers out there. It was gently suggested to me that I should try one of them instead of the same one that broke every year, just like clockwork. Hmmm….what a concept.
So, I grit my teeth and bought the best coffee pot Costco had. It was four times as much as I had ever paid for a pot before. Oh, but what a coffee pot! All I had to do was set it up at night and first thing in the morning it would wake me up with the gentle sound of grinding beans. Then shortly after the snooze alarm would be the scent of freshly brewing coffee. I hesitate to say it, but I think I loved this coffeepot more than I ever dreamed of loving my Cinderella watch.
Did you notice that I’m using past tense? Sadly, after nearly three years (a record!) of faithful service, my coffee pot decided that it would no longer brew anything for me…no matter how much I pleaded with it. After a couple days of making do with hot tea and nearest latte stand (no shortage of those here in Seattle…too bad they don’t deliver!) I once again made my way to see what Costco had to offer me. I cringed as I offered up my debit card for my expensive new pot…but I knew it would be worth it.
And now, it’s time for me to enjoy a cup of freshly brewed coffee..and to finally figure out how to control my electromagnetic pulses. I’m quite content to live life on it’s own time…but don’t mess with my java!
*This was way before Disney had saturated the world