I cite

Letter to Jeff M. Fettig, Whirlpool Headquarters

December 22, 2011

Mr. Jeff M. Fettig
Whirlpool Headquarters
2000 N. M-63

Benton Harbor, MI 49022-2692

Dear Mr. Fettig,

I purchased a Whirlpool dishwasher from Discount Appliance in Geneva, New York on July 15, 2010.  It was installed in August, and it functioned well for about a year.  In late November, 2011, the dishwasher ceased to function.  I made a service call on November 29, 2011 to Discount Appliance.  I learned that the dishwasher required a new “touch panel.”  A new touch panel costs $164.80.  Including labor, this is a repair that would cost about $262.03, according to the estimate I received.  For this sum of money, it might make more sense to buy another dishwasher, but who can afford to purchase a new dishwasher every year?  And more importantly, one should not have to purchase a new dishwasher ever year.

My warrantee expired after a year, unfortunately, and the dishwasher failed shortly thereafter.  Needless to say, this did not leave me with a very good impression regarding the reliability of Whirlpool products, particularly your dishwashers.  Discount Appliance told me that in the old days, they could call Whirlpool and this kind of thing could be taken care of.  Customers could count on their appliances, and those who make them and sell them would stand behind them.  They told me that presently, Whirlpool would not accept their phone call on behalf of their customers, so customers must call Whirlpool directly themselves.  They urged me to call your customer support line.

Therefore, I called your customer support line.  The response I got was that Whirlpool would not stand behind the substantive reliability of their products—the person on the other end of the line informed me that once the year has lapsed, Whirlpool would not take responsibility for having manufactured a faulty appliance.  The person on the other end did try to sell me an extended warrantee, but why would I want to give more money to a company and purchase a second thing from it when that company has failed to demonstrate reliability on the first thing I purchased from them and has refused to take responsibility for this failure?

What would make me happy?  If you could send a touch panel free of charge to Discount Appliance, 509 Exchange St., Geneva, NY 14456.  My model is DU1055XTVQO.  My serial number is FY3357685.  The part number is 3385735.  Although I still will have been inconvenienced, lost the time I have had to spend with Discount Appliance, your customer support line, and writing this letter, and I would have to pay for the cost of labor, at least I would have a sense that Whirlpool is making a good faith effort to manufacture reliable products.  Then, I might consider buying Whirlpool again in the future.  The price for the part quoted to me was $164.80.  That seems like it might be a good long-term investment to make on your part, especially since I have friends, colleagues, and hundreds of students.  What do you think?

Sincerely,


Paul A. Passavant

A Christmas Eve Visitor

  Stanley Park Squirrel 
  Originally uploaded by L_Barnes.

On Christmas, children listen carefully, hoping perhaps to hear the pitter patter of little feet, sounds of reindeer or Santa's elves. For them, such sounds are thrilling. For adults, not so much.

Paul found a guest staying in the sun room of the third floor apartment that he was renovating this summer (but didn't finish before the term started and so has been staying with me). The guest had demolished all the plants and made a complete mess. It really is a struggle to keep this old house from being completely overtaken by nature--during the summer there were instances with birds and bats. And now the squirrel.  Paul called me rather panicky. I said I'd be right over. He called again and asked me to bring some nuts. "Mixed? With cashews? Roasted?" I was much more amused than he was.

Paul was using a mop handle and a screen to shield himself from the squirrel. The squirrel was remarkably stupid--preferring to hide in the curtains rather than follow the trail of delicious nuts out the door to freedom. So, Paul would poke the curtain, the squirrel would jump out, Paul would scream, I would trip over something, and the squirrel would run back to its hiding place.

Paul said that he kept thinking of Chevy Chase movies and worried that this whole affair would end with him having a rabid squirrel attached to his face. I called the police. They don't handle this kind of thing.

We left with the door to the backporch open and a trail of nuts leading out. Or leading in, depending on your perspective. Shoot, now there are enough nuts out there on the floor for a party. Welcome, Christmas squirrels.

The Furnace

  The Furnace 
  Originally uploaded by Jodi3425.

This is the furnace in Paul's Old House. It gives me the willies. I thought that we were finished painting and cleaning the first floor for Paul's tenant about 6:30 or so. Then, Paul met me at a party with more trials and tribulations (which one should never discuss near a black South African woman because no matter what, her stories will be much, much worse than those of a privileged white, male, American college professor). Anyway, a friend had lent Paul a buffer for the kitchen floor. Somehow Paul didn't realize that he needed to take off the bottom basin of the buffer so that the scrubbers would actually scrub the floor. Go figure. So, he ran the buffer over and over with the equivalent of the lid on it. He also thought his oven was cleaning for about 4 hours--he didn't read the lines that told him he needed to latch it shut for the cleaning to start. Also, I've never seen someone have such a hard time taping newspaper to a window. It was really astounding.

Anyway, with help from Kevin and Richard on the upstairs floors, and with Nick painting the bathroom and kitchen (although, I'll give myself a few brownie points on the kitchen painting front as well, and, why not, on the unbelievably wonderful partner front--cleaning the fridge, cabinets, microwave, and lugging tons of files to the office--yes, Paul is a lucky man) the first floor is ready. And, there is progress on the third.

Tic toc Tic toc

Not up to the level of the discussion taking place elsewhere on I Cite, I remain preoccupied with the situation at Paul's Old House. Yesterday, my son and I moved all the books into the basement and into Paul's campus office. We also got light furniture, objets, plants, and art moved. Paul got the kitchen packed up and cleaned out. An artist friend who used to paint houses finished the first floor bathroom. Apparently a college student continued to sand the floors on the third floor. Friends are supposed to help today and or tomorrow with moving the heavy furniture into the basement. In terms of preparation for the tenant, then, things are progressing. The biggest task is painting the kitchen.

How Paul will feel in the upcoming weeks as he looks for his books and files and finds his habits completely disrupted is another matter entirely. With any good fortune, he will be able to move into the third floor before the end of September (I'm sure that the kids' early am schedule will start to wear him down, as will the feeling of not having his own space). But, will the demands of teaching, plus the fact that the department has 2 tenure cases (one of which Paul is chairing) and 2 tenure track searches going on make working on the third floor impossible?

When It Hits the Fan

The situation in Paul's Old House is getting dicey, precarious, desperate--it's hard for me to find the appropriate word here. The overall plan has been (and still is) that he fixes us the third floor so that he can live there. He has been (and still is) living on the first floor. A tenant is moving into the first floor on Monday. Yet, the third floor is not done, the first floor needs work, and nothing is packed. Let's break this down a bit.

The third floor: at this point, the biggest issue is the floors. Paul decided not to move anything in until the floors were done. So, he ripped out the old asbestos tile in the kitchen and sanded the hardwood underneath. He's also been sanding the hall, living room, dining room, and bedroom. This is harder than it should be because the building is old and the floors are uneven. There were also a couple of million tiny nails in the kitchen floor. The thought was that sanding would take a day or two and then there would be time to put on the three coats of finish. At this point, the sanding isn't done. So, the finish won't be dry in time for him to move the furniture up there.

I haven't mentioned that the electrical has to be redone as well. This creates a problem: running two or three sanders blows the circuits. At this point, there is no stove, sink, or refrigerator in the kitchen. These are all crowded onto the sunporch/study with other furniture and shelves. I'll skip the question of painting and the cabinets and, why not, the remaining holes in the walls (exposed lathe etc). And, I'll skip the matter of the scary buldges of chipped paint that suggest some leakage in the roof and ceiling.
Last week he was still considering whether to rip out the ceiling in the dining room to put in insulation. It's probably a good idea that he didn't do that. But there is still no ceiling in the kitchen--this is waiting for the electrical. And the lights. And the insulation.

The first floor: Paul's dad and stepmother came in to help for a couple of days. His dad got the first floor bathroom stripped and primed. It needs to be painted. His step mom got the first floor kitchen scraped. But it still needs to be sanded, washed, primed, and painted. And, of course, all Paul's dishes and kitchen wares need to be packed or moved out--but where to? Then there is the matter of a couple of thousand books, tons of files, and then furniture, clothes, art, sporting goods, rugs. And, cleaning the stove, cleaning out the refrigerator and generally getting the apartment ready for the tenant. Fortunately, she was interested in painting the large rooms of the apartment herself.

I suggested that my kids and I and maybe a couple of other people could start moving the books and files to Paul's office. (School starts a week from Monday; and, a week from Wednesday we have to go to Philadelphia for the American Political Science Association Annual meeting). But, Paul thinks that he might need some of the books and files and isn't sure about which ones. (He's not what one would call a snap decision maker. No, Paul thinks through things, proceeding cautiously and thoroughly.) So, he wasn't ready to think about this yet. This suggests to me that he won't find it helpful to have a bunch of people packing up his stuff and moving it to the basement, to his office, and across the street to my house. That's likely to be too confusing and scattershot. And, it also introduces a whole slew of ethical questions: how much help can one ask for from colleagues who are up for tenure or who are in temporary positions and are applying here for tenure track appointments? Obligations, indebtness, expectation, and anxiety start to complicate the picture.

The tenant is a single mom with a baby who starts work in a week or less. She's coming up from Pennsylvania and is likely to want to get moved in. I wonder if she will be concerned about pain fumes. Maybe not too much since she had planned on doing some painting herself.

Brick, Mortar, and Bats

While I was at the beach, Paul had a bat incident. It started swooping while Paul was leaving me a message on my cell phone. I saved it and wonder if there is a way I can put the tape online. I really, really hate bats and spent what was for me a considerable sum of money last summer to have my house de-batted. But that's not the main point of this point.

The main point is the unfortunate convergence of bats and mortar. Well, that's not quite right either, although it does hint at a really wonderful image: a bat flying into wet mortar and getting stuck, a hideous reminder or postmodern gargoyle. Not what really happened is that Paul had to ignore a bat flying around so he could make it to the hardware store before it (the store, not the bat) closed. Once he returned home, he couldn't find the bat. Which means it has probably squirreled away somewhere in the rafters or walls.

Anyway, Paul didn't have quite enough time for a thorough briefing on how to patch the holes he made in the walls as he tried to chip away old plaster so as to have exposed brick in his kitchen. More advice might have led him to supply himself with one of those handheld platforms that masons use for mortar or plaster. Not having one, he experienced significant plaster loss in the move from bucket to wall. Of course he knew enough to have drop cloths and such around. But, that didn't stop the mortar--quick drying--from dribbling all over the newly exposed brick.

Maybe I should have titled this post 'one step forward, two steps back.'

The Hardest Job in the World

Paul's decided that being a house painter is the hardest job in the world. It has to be done in the summer. It requires scraping, sanding, washing, and priming before painting. If these steps aren't taken, then the job won't be done right. It involves ladders and reaching. Lots of paint chips and dust everywhere. He tells me disgusting stories of ringing out cups of water (sweat) from his socks. Yesterday, he just jumped in the lake with all his clothes on since he didn't want the filth in the house.

What also really hits home: it's all about the labor time, the time that the job takes--which is a lot, especially if the house is old, has lots of detail, and was poorly painted in the past.

No easy street for Paul, no sir.

Under Pressure

Well, Paul received a deposit from a tenant hoping to move into his building in August. Not much has changed since, say, March. He torn down the wall and most of the ceiling in the third floor apartment where he will live. He's looked at old sinks and considered whether he will regret getting rid of his old sink and replacing it with another old sink. He's read some books on electricity and household wiring. And, he's debated over putting in an island or something like a stainless steel table. So, he needs to put in electricity, drywall, a ceiling, a floor, and finish off the wall. Then he can consider what seems to be leaks in the roof, the very poor condition of the bathroom, the floors, and, why not, painting the whole place. It will be interesting to see if he can get this done by August.

The past two months? He wrote a fantastic piece on Agamben's account of the state/sovereignty.

A new use

  DSC04913 
  Originally uploaded by Dwight.

Since knocking out a wall several months ago, Paul has found a new use for his hammer. It now holds down and holds open pages from Agamben. Paul's hammer, then, has a certain affinity to law, to law that has been deactivated and made ready for play.

So, find: law; replace: hammer--

One day humanity will play with hammers just as children play with disused objects, not in order to restore them to their canonical use but to free them from it for good. What is found after the hammer is not a more proper and original use value that precedes the hammer, but a new use that is born only after it. And use, which has been contaminated by hammers, must also be freed from its own value.

Bring it down!

Bring it down!
Originally uploaded by Jodi3425.

It's happening. It's really happening. Most of the ceiling is ripped out and most of the sustaining wall--all but the posts. Today an architect friend is coming to help Paul 'jack up' the ceiling to take the supporting posts out.