Just Vacuum While Relaxing and Eating Bonbons

My wistful hope that our prodigious technology will concentrate on making life better, now that the Cold War will no longer drain its energies, has produced complaints as well as suggestions.

I am not surprised that some women readers were not in total agreement with my remark that “It seems ironic to me that in this age, when technology has reduced housework to an almost pleasant minimum, so many women should want to leave home for the stress and grinding competition of the marketplace.”

Lucille Buck of Cerritos asks: “When was the last time you washed a toilet bowl or vacuumed your house? To me, the vacuum is the most awkward gadget in the entire world, and back-breaking, too.”

I quite agree with Mrs. Buck that the vacuum cleaner is the most disagreeable of appliances. I have rarely used one since I was a boy and had to help my mother with the housework.

It is not so much the machine’s awkwardness that annoys me as its sound. Awkward it is. The snout has a tendency to go its own way, and one has to manhandle it, like an obstinate dog on a leash. But its whine is insufferable. It has been a rule in our house for years that my wife is not to use the vacuum while I’m working. Of course my wife no longer uses the vacuum. That is done by our housecleaning woman, who is impervious to my rules.

Mrs. Buck goes on to say that she was still fuming over my words when her youngest daughter, Jan Jennrich, stopped in to visit. “He’s right, Mom,” the daughter said.

“Now I’m really getting mad,” Mrs. Buck continues. “She’s agreeing with you.”

Her daughter added, “The new modern-day appliances do save women a lot of time and energy, but today’s families have more clothes, towels and so forth than in the olden days.”

Mrs. Buck thought it over and agreed that the washing loads are heavier these days. “(Jan) asked her Dad how many outfits he had when he was a kid. He told her he had two school outfits, one pair of after-school pants, and one Sunday outfit. She grew up with a new outfit every day for probably weeks.

“So the washing is easier, granted, but the loads of laundry are larger. I have yet to find an iron, vacuum, floor scrubber, dust buster or shower scrubber that will run by itself.”

Marilyn Jensen of La Habra suggests “something that would unload the dishwasher and put the dishes away and something to transport clothes from the laundry room into the proper drawers and closets.”

Mrs. Jensen says she showed her letter to her son, and he said: “But we already have an invention that takes care of both these things--women.” Mrs. Jensen adds, “Thought you’d appreciate that more than I do.”

Obviously, Mrs. Jensen’s son is a budding sexist and will have to have his consciousness raised.

What Mrs. Jensen is talking about is a robot, something like Ursula, who, according to a press agent, “will mix and serve your drinks (she already knows what you like), turn on your favorite TV programs and turn your bath water on and off.”

(By the way, Mrs. Buck asked if Ursula does windows.)

Fay Cheney of Santa Ana sends a tattered page from a women’s magazine (probably circa 1925). A photograph shows a young woman in a dress of that period getting rid of wood worms in a piece of furniture by using a fountain pen to squirt camphor and paraffin into the wormholes. (I pass this on gratuitously to any woman who is troubled by wood worms.)

The article is called “The Woman About the House” and explains how to mend a fuse, repair an electric bell, clean a sink trap, stop drawers from sticking, mend chairs and “all sorts of jobs a woman should be able to do.”

Mrs. Cheney says the old page was turned up by workmen remodeling her house. She suspects it is of British origin because of references to spanners and the scullery and the spelling recognise .

Meanwhile, if any readers would like to know how to repair an electric bell or clean a sink trap, let me know and I will be happy to send you a copy of this enlightening article.