Sunday, May 29, 2016

Lint trap, head trap

With thanks to Dr Seuss.

Due to the tight space of our laundry our dryer is mounted upside-down above the washing machine. The dryer is designed to be able to do that but the thing is the lint trap, or filter, is designed for the the regular use of right way up. Upside down then when the lint trap fills with lint then gravity means the lint trap filter will slide out of the machine when you open the door. 

You forever have to be ready to catch it in case it slips out and lands on your head. 

Sometimes, though, it's deceptive. It doesn't immediately slide out. So you open the machine, to pull out clothes and nothing happens. You think you're okay and get to work and that's when the little fucker drops and lands on your head.

I am balding. That is to say I still have head hair but it's mostly the sides. My scalp is an upthrust garden of sparse hairs, like the paddock of a sheep pasture after a farmer ring-barked 99.9 per cent of the trees in the mistaken idea that was the best way to use the environment. 

The lint trap, a framework of hard white plastic encasing a fine mesh screen to catch lint, hurts when it lands handle-first on a near hairless head. Cushioning head hair is actually useful hair to have; it's not just a subconscious cue of genetic health and desirability. 

I am now primed to preemptively clean the trap each time I use the dryer. Which, as luck would have it, the dryer tells me to do in large black plastic letters going each way—for upside users and the right-side up.

I can't blame the dyer peeps, they did warn me to do it. They didn't warn me it would be like an Indiana Jones movie each time I used the fucker in the upside down mode until enough scalp wound incidents prompted me to pre-clean the trap lest it happen. 

I recognise on a scale of worries to have, this is pretty far down the list of even normal first world problems. But as a short man in a not-nice-to-short-men world the lint trap is annoying to clean, that's why I wasn't doing it, because I have to stretch to get to the handle and go up on my toes like a child. Then, after cleaning, I have to stretch to slot it back in and hope it's gone in solidly enough for it not to then slide out and clonk me on the head.

So it's not just for me I kvetch, but for all short, angry, balding men.

(fist raised for the like-afflicted

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