BOSTON (CBS) – So Andy Rooney finally said enough and will no longer wax poetically about detergent box claims, overstuffed glove compartments or how fruits got their names. Congratulations to the world’s foremost curmudgeon. After thirty-seven years of whining about everything, he has earned the chance to relax. Which means a slightly less annoying Sunday evening for the rest of America.
Don’t fret. I am not, nor shall I in the future be applying for Andy’s old gig. I am happy to stroll along my merry way without feeling a compulsion to moan, groan or nitpick on network TV.
Besides, who needs TV? If I were looking to carp a teeny bit, this would be the medium in which to do so. Since I have this convenient forum with no desire to write about anything serious today, allow me a tender Rooneyesque commentary about something truly silly (but kind of fun to gripe about).
Colleagues in my office recently pointed out that of all of the people who use the communal kitchen, yours truly is the culprit responsible for leaving the cupboard doors open—on a consistent basis. I quickly dismissed the charge. Certainly not moi, the same diligent office mate who washes other worker’s dirty mugs, replaces spent paper towels on the rack and routinely orders the coffee and supplies? Walk away without doing something as simple and courteous as shutting a cabinet? How gauche to even suggest it.
Sadly for me, they had the weight of overwhelming evidence on their side. I was caught in the act the other day, nonchalantly reaching for a jar of peanut butter on one shelf, a plastic knife from another, only to leave the cabinet door ajar. In fact, very much ajar next to yet another cabinet door that had been previously flung asunder for the all important crackers that accompany the peanut butter. Caught in the act, I ruefully admitted the character flaw and vowed to do something about it, to bring the matter (with all apologies) to a fitting close. During the last two weeks on Cabinet Rehab “(My name is Jordan and I tearfully admit there have been times in my life when I’ve left things undone”) I have fared well, managing to concentrate on the emerging processes of finding finality, of closing those open doors. There have been slipups, but most have been self-corrected within short order.
Turnabout being fair-play, it was time to return the favor with a little venting at the very colleagues who called me out. Something in the kitchen occurred that offered me the perfect opportunity. Something I will refer to affectionately as microwave malfeasance.
It dawned on me that for the last dozen or so times I had attempted to set the timer on the microwave nothing happened. It finally became obvious. The previous user(s) had stopped the oven before time had run its course, plucking their frozen pizza out thereby leaving the microwave machine in radioactive limbo. Someone’s impatience had gummed up the works and frozen the machine’s memory. Since the digital counter is below eye level, one cannot readily see that the readout is not set to zero. So, we are forced to regroup, reset and punch in new numbers before pressing the start button to get something to happen. A minor inconvenience of course, but enough of an annoyance to trigger payback.
Many of us prefer things remain in numerical order. Despite my unruly habit of leaving doors ajar, I do not appreciate the digital counter displaying anything other than zero when it’s time to begin my nuking project. Apparently there are many out there you share this view. So for those of you who are digitally careless, remember the common courtesy of letting the microwave time down to zero. Here’s a helpful tip. Instead of cooking a bagel for 5 minutes, try 30 seconds. You’d be amazed at how simple it can be to change.
Otherwise you’re apt to get a tongue lashing, Rooney style. And if you’re incapable of making this adjustment, here’s a suggestion—go the conventional oven route and leave the zapping to us professionals who know what 00:00 is truly all about. While you’re at it, synchronize your cable boxes with your cell phones and bedroom clocks. It makes for a more digitally secure environment. In return, I promise to keep working on closure—the cabinet kind.