After 20 years of reliable service I decided it was time to replace our old multi-tool Panasonic with something more powerful and easier to use. In addition to conducting research online to evaluate possible replacement options, I also spent considerable time testing various models at the usual brick and mortar establishments. Nothing really seem to appeal to me; however, just as I was beginning to resign myself to endure using my aging vacuum until it no longer functioned at all, my wife pointed to an advertisement featuring a half off price sale at a local Oreck Store. Oreck was not one of the models I had tested before so I decided to see what was being offered and demo a vacuum while I was there. While the half-price deal was intriguing I didn’t really intend to plunk down the bucks for an Oreck, or a Rainbow, or any of those similarly priced vacuums.
At the Oreck store we tried out the full line of vacuums as well as inquiring about the half-priced model listed in the advertisement. As I expected, the vacuum on sale didn’t measure up to the various models I tested but that was due more to my specific requirements than the performance of the vacuum itself. In the end I opted for the Oreck XL Platinum Plus which comes with a 15 year warranty that includes yearly maintenance on the vacuum and its parts as well as a canister vacuum–I chose the mid-line canister model for its combination of features and portability. The initial outlay for the Oreck that I chose was substantially more than I had considered spending for a vacuum; however, the life expectancy of the appliance and service contract added sufficient value to the primary feature of the product (its excellent performance as a vacuum) that it offset the cost. Besides, there was a thirty day trial period which included a money back guarantee.
I did hold onto the old Panasonic while I put the XL through its paces and for one scary day I was beginning to think I would have to revert to my aging dust creator again. The week we bought the Oreck an emergency arose and we had to make a quick trip north to see family so I didn’t have the opportunity to test our new vacuum thoroughly until we returned. Shortly after I commenced vacuuming in earnest, an ear-piercing squeal developed. The sound only occurred during the backstroke, when one was pulling the machine back toward oneself; however, the effect of the squeal was almost nauseating. It is probably an understatement to suggest that there are occasions when I tend to be more reactive than on other occasions. I can tell you that each time that Oreck squealed at me it sounded as if dollar bills were being shredded in a modified trade of cash for toxic assets deal. So I called the Oreck Store immediately. When I finished my description of the problem, I was told that a shipment of vacs had come into the shop that had not been properly lubricated at the factory. Apparently other customers had reported similar experiences as the Oreck representative was familiar with the problem. I was told to bring the vacuum by the shop and it would be fixed/adjusted while I waited. The vac was adjusted in a matter of minutes and we were on our way.
I don’t often go for the warranty gambit offered with most products these days as they do not appear to add enough value to the product for the cost. I’ve read that engineering has become so refined that manufacturers can produce products with specific failure rates built in which are accurate to within a week of the projected point of failure, which, can conceivably allow the fees from warranty contracts to be applied directly to the bottom line. Costs for certain replacement parts exceed the purchase price of a new item, e.g. one can buy a newer model laser printer for less than or equal to the cost of the old printer’s toner cartridge. So why bother with a vacuum from a company that includes service as an integral part of its business model? For starters, there is something appealing about resisting the waste produced by the throw-away attitude which is so prevalent today. Caring for whatever one used–without consideration of ownership or value–had been an implicit code of conduct in general society; it certainly was drummed into me as a kid. Of course, the notion of caring may have had its roots in everyday living where a certain frugality was necessitated by the limitations of one’s resources. Until the recent global economic collapse consumption and not conservation was the dominant mindset of the average individual. We became short-sighted in our estimation of value, misled by a faulty system of cost analysis where the constant churning of production was an insatiable maw that cannibalized itself. Complicit with the unending cycle of producing was the concomitant drive for entrepreneurs, large and small, to create need where before only want stood day-dreaming about the imaginary world it was constructing. I’m not implying that all novelty is a matter of ulterior motivation or that creativity is merely a process of deception; however, while both statements contain the seeds of truth, it is the growth and the yield which are often the source of ambiguity.
Of course, I am extremely pleased with the Oreck; it has performed as advertised. I may not feel the same way in 2019 or 2024, two-thirds of the way into the service contract and at its end, respectively, which, returns us once again to the topics of obsolescence and longevity. If the present climate has taught us anything it is that businesses, even those considered too big to fail, can in fact fail; and that obligations, promises, and contracts are as transitory as the organizations that offered, issued, or underwrote them. Oreck, as a company, may not survive the bargain it has struck with me as a customer. Fifteen years can be an eternity these days, besides, in a year or two some better product may (will) come along that will offer more for the same cost or less, or be more green, as we are inclined to say to show off our global view and environmental awareness. It is both confusing and perplexing; it is even seductive, this surplice of green cloth which at once protects us and our environment and blinds us from our own self-centered ratiocination. Perhaps the solution depends upon not what we have but how we have it; not what we do but how we do it.
Theory
I am what is around me.
Women understand this.
One is not duchess
A hundred yards from a carriage.
These, then are portraits:
A black vestibule;
A high bed sheltered by curtains.These are merely instances.
—Wallace Stevens
