Plastic Wraps that are Better than Sex

I have issues with plastic wraps.

They are an annoying piece of work yet essential to my life.

I have dealt with this thing for my entire life, yet have not come to peace with it.

Why can't I, for once, get a clear, sharp cut in the size I want?

Why is it so difficult for Reynolds to make a contraption that will allow the plastic wrap to slide out and slice off without effort, without the roll coming out of the box?

I cannot count the times my fish or chicken or pork or beef has been the victim of kitchen rage due to plastic wraps.

Working in a Tokyo kitchen a third of the size of that in New York (not that NYC ones are large!) forces me into combat mode.

I see the unopened box of plastic wrap that Ken has bought right next to Alex's leftovers that are going in his lunch box the next day. I can feel the rage coming even before I touch anything.

I pick up the plastic wrap box that is half the length of any American one I have seen.

I open the box, take the tape off and slice.

 

And it slices. like. butter.

Perfect shape, perfect size, perfect cut, perfectly fast.

I am amazed.

I cut more than I need to.

I am covered in plastic wrap.

I am feeling something I haven't felt for decades.
I am in heaven.
Sooooooooo satisfied.

I go out to the supermarket to buy more.

They come in short, medium and long sizes.

I GET TO CHOOSE THE SIZE!

I buy all.

This is way better than sex.

Brand New Washing Machine

We got a new washing machine.
It's actually a washer/dryer.
It does 2 jobs at once, well ok, not at once, but in one cycle..
We bought it to save space and time.
We were wrong on both accounts.

The space issue:
When we went to buy the machine, the shop assistant insisted on coming to our house for "estimates".
We had no idea what they were trying to estimate.
They kept saying that they had to know if the machine will fit.
We we did our own measurements and it's not like that's rocket science.
We were having a hard time wondering why they couldn't trust our tape measure.
Since we were having trouble comprehending Japanese, we conceded and allowed them to estimate (it was free anyway).

They come a couple of days later and start measuring the apartment like crazy.
The door, the size of the handles, the elevator, the building entrance.
They measured everywhere but the actual area we were going to put the machine in.
They told us the door covering the washing machine area had to go temporarily.
Apparently, with the door there, the machine was not going to go through.
So that was what they were doing.
Japanese apartments are small but their fixtures are about the same as US.
So, door handles or the thickness of doors can hinder stuff getting inside.

We agree to removing the door.
The machine arrives; the door is lying in my son's room upsetting the boy dearly.
Ken falls in love with the machine.
He watches the front loader door open and close without any annoying sounds.
He watches the drum cycling to figure out how much the laundry weighs and to calculate the amount of detergent.
He touches the sleek lines, the soft shade.
Alex, now forgetting the door in his room joins Ken.
They are both mesmerized.

So the door, can we move it?
We try to put it back, but then realize that if we do, the washing machine will not open.
The hinges of the door touches the hinges of the washing machine and if we are not very careful every single time, the loader door will surely break.
We need to have the door opening from the left, not the right.
We figure we can just put the door upside down and connect it to the other side.
But we can't.
The state of the art door is way more complicated that we first thought.
So it's there now, leaning against the wall next to the washing machine.


The time issue:
What we completely failed to grasp was the weather in Japan.
Basically, it's humid.
Hot or cold, it's fairly humid.
So, drying clothes takes extra time.
If we try to dry clothes in the same drum that was for a minute ago washing them, it's going to take considerably longer because the machine needs to dry out the drum at the same time.

We look at the control panel that looks like an airplane cockpit.

There are so many buttons and displays we don't know what to do.

One American businessman I met a decade ago insisted that American machines don't last long not because of manufacturing inferiority but because consumers don't read the owners' manual. They just guess, press buttons and screw the whole machine. He marveled at how Japanese always read their manuals from start to finish.

I was wondering if that was still the case.
The control panel screams "read the owners' manual" but we just couldn't get around doing so.
So we blindly pushed buttons, and the machine gave us a time frame.
"2 hours 45 minutes".
Nearly 3 hours for what? For washing and drying?
Have I already screwed the machine up?

So that is how long it takes.
And washing machines here are small.
You can only do about 2/3 of the amount we do in NY in one cycle at best.
So while I was doing 3 loads in New York, I have to do 5 here.
That's nearly 15 hours of consecutive use.
If the machine breaks down, it's NOT because we didn't read the owners' manual.

Country of Dyson

2 weeks after moving into our apartment, we finally went out to get a vacuum cleaner.
Someone told me it was Japan where Dyson made his big break. Dyson was so grateful for the chance to prove himself that he still spends a significant amount on R&D dedicated to the Japanese market.

His current offering is limited to canister models; i.e. no uprights like they have in New York. However, considering the lack of storage space for tall things in this country, a canister model with its telescopic wand and hose that wrap around the body to make a tight small bundle is actually perfect.

I look at the most expensive model, which is officially $800 but actually gets discounted to $700, and compared it to the Dyson Stowaway I saw in the city. Its wheels are bigger, the wrap tighter, the hose sturdier, the body a darker color with the canister being a chic champagne gold. It looks far better than the U.S. model. I was told it also hooks up to the internet. Yep, the internet. Apparently it can receive data through that; I don't know what for. There seems to be more bells and whistles regarding its ability at cleaning too.

It looks like the only thing that is superior in the U.S. model is its cost efficiency. The U.S. price is $500 with a 5 year guarantee (Japan only stretches 2 years). Ken is not happy with the price difference nor the price, period, but I can live with that. Beats dealing with filters.

Back in New York, I was told from someone who uses our cleaning lady that she doesn't exchange filters. I only found this out after hiring her for a year. I don't even want to think what was going inside that machine. Dyson it is. Now I have to find a cleaning lady who can use it.