So maybe I was exaggerating just a little with the whole vacuum cleaner collectors' club. I am a likelier candidate for a fan club than a collectors' club. It all started with the Dyson. The inventor just seemed so darned earnest, so deeply concerned that people have immaculately clean carpets. His selfless desire to create a vacuum that never loses suction just touched me. From there it grew; I worked briefly as a housecleaner and got to use my first cannister vac.* Around that time the LA Times Home section ran a feature article on the new class of vacuums, and I read every word, entranced. We purchased our first vacuum, a bagless Bissel, shortly after (we had been using a loud, monstrous Dirt Devil corded handheld). The first time we ran that vacuum on our apartment carpets amounted to a religious experience. Seeing all that crud and dust swirl around in the plastic cup was simply thrilling: this little machine was taking it out of our carpets, out of our lungs, out of our lives. Aroundabout this time my family started to notice the giddiness in my voice when speaking of the holy Dyson. Elizabeth sent me a Dyson ad in the mail, and my Ma recently sent me a Life article about the collector's club. When Monica was shown hand-vacuuming her Dyson on Friends, I felt like the sit-com writers were sending me a Valentine. At this point I should divulge the truth: I'm not always that good about actually running the vacuum. Ben pointed out yesterday that I have yet to vacuum since I promised to stick to an every-other-day schedule. But having written this little meditation on the beauty of the electric sweeper, I feel a housecleaning bug coming on. (Or maybe I just feel a carpet-dwelling flea gnawing on my ankle. Either way.)
*The cannister vac (a Kenmore) was also the first vacuum I've used that had an automatically winding cord. I despise winding up vacuum cords, and always have. But with that Kenmore, I only had to depress a button and it just shot back into place... see how addictive this is? See??