My last gas range, a Magic Chef, lasted over 25 years. The only problem with it was it had pilot lights. I can’t even remember how many times I woke up to the smell of gas because one of the pilot lights had gone out overnight. It got to the point where I was afraid to scuff my slippers against the rug, for fear I’d create static electricity and end up blowing my house (and myself) somewhere into the stratosphere.
Even worse, the pilot light in the oven always seemed to go out the most often – maybe because it was at floor-level and my flabby legs created a big draft whenever I walked past it. It was located way in the back of the broiler drawer, so whenever I had to relight it, I had to lie on my stomach on the floor and stick my head all the way into the broiler. If I’d have happened to die while in that position, I’m pretty sure my death would have been ruled self-inflicted.
So when my current house was built, I vowed to get a “modern” gas range that didn’t have pilot lights. I was pleased to find not only the perfect stove, but a complete Frigidaire appliance package that included the stove along with a dishwasher, refrigerator, and a washer and dryer, all for under $2,000.
I remembered Frigidaire from way back when I was a kid, and it seemed to be a reliable brand. In fact, my grandmother had the same Frigidaire refrigerator for over 30 years. She never referred to it as a refrigerator, however. She always would say something like “Go get some milk out of the Frigidaire” whenever she mentioned it.
So I bought the appliance package and felt confident that all of the appliances probably would outlive me.
Alas, I was in for a big letdown. After only three years the dishwasher died and I was forced to invest in a new one.
And the minute the clock struck midnight on the final day of the gas range’s extended-warranty, it transformed into Satan's appliance from Hell. I turned on two of the burner knobs one afternoon as I was cooking lunch, and they snapped right off their stems. Then when I tried to order replacements, I learned they weren’t being made any longer. I finally bought some knobs on Ebay that had the same product number, but they didn’t fit. So I was forced to tape the old knobs back on with duct tape. Not exactly a chic look for my kitchen.
And twice within the following three years, I had to replace the oven’s igniter, the gizmo that sparks the gas flame. Each time it needed to be replaced, the service call cost me over $250.
The third time the igniter failed, I was about to bake cookies. I turned on the oven and waited for it to reach the proper temperature so I could shove the pan into it. About two minutes later, I heard a loud “POOF” that made me jump. I looked at the stove, and through the glass door I saw a wall of flames shoot from one side of the oven to the other. Just as quickly, however, everything seemed fine, and I baked my cookies with no problem.
Had I been smart, it might have dawned on me that flames shooting across the inside of an oven couldn’t be a good thing – especially if I had been reaching into it at the time.
Sure enough, that “poof” turned out to be the oven’s final gasp. It refused to light after that.
When the repairman told me it needed yet another igniter, I refused to replace it. It was the oven’s third strike…and as far as I was concerned, three strikes and it was out, permanently benched. It officially was a lemon, not worthy of any more of my time or money.
So I went shopping for a new stove…and spent most of my time gasping in horror at how much the prices had increased since I’d last purchased one.
Not only that, I learned that even if I did buy a new gas range, the store’s delivery people weren’t allowed to install it or disconnect my old one. I was told they would drop it off in my garage or on my front porch and I would have to call my propane company to disconnect the gas from the old stove and then hook it up to the new one.
I hate to say it, but my propane company is in the bad habit of scheduling appointments and then canceling them at the last minute. So for all I knew, by the time someone actually would show up to connect a new stove, it probably would be considered a vintage collector’s item.
So I came up with what I thought was the perfect alternative.
I ordered a toaster oven online that not only toasted, it also baked and broiled, and even had a convection-oven feature and a rotisserie. The burners on my kitchen stove still worked fine, so I figured all I needed was something I could use for baking. The toaster oven sounded as if it would fill that void, and for only $59.
The only problem was the box it came in turned out to be about three times larger than the actual oven inside. Once I unpacked it, I was disappointed to see how small it was. I mean, instead of roasting a whole chicken on the rotisserie as I’d imagined, I doubted I’d even be able to fit a couple chicken nuggets on it.
I also was able to bake only three cookies at a time. They came out fine – golden and crisp. But my favorite recipe usually yielded two dozen, so baking the entire batch of cookies took me most of the night. And my trusty old casserole dish was too big to fit into the toaster oven, so I had to find a smaller dish…like from Barbie’s Dream House collection.
To my relief and delight, my friend and her husband gifted me with a much larger, state-of-the-art toaster-oven for my birthday. I've used it nearly every day since and it’s been great.
Much better than the crummy oven in my gas range ever was.
Speaking of which, just out of curiosity the other day, I turned on the old oven to see if maybe it somehow had miraculously been reincarnated and revived after its prolonged period of rest.
Nothing at all happened…not a “poof,” not a sputter, not a cough…nothing.
But I think I really ticked off the spider that’s living in it.
Sally Breslin is an award-winning syndicated humor columnist who has written regularly for newspapers and magazines all of her adult life. She is the author of several novels in a variety of genres, from humor and romance to science-fiction. Contact her at: sillysally@att.net.
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