January 21, 2006
Packing
CP got us a handheld cordless vacuum for Christmas. She said the easier and better to keep books clean and asthma under control. We haven’t tried it out yet. The box it came in was so attractively well-designed and seem to fit so well, that we were altogether reluctant to dismantle it.
If the cleaner inside works as well as its container, we wondered, then we probably wouldn’t have to worry about the usual planned obsolescence that fills our junkyards with old cars and plastic. I regret to tell you, however, that we did unpack it, not without some considerable effort, but we’ve not hooked it up and charged it out of respect for any possible letdown we might have to face.
We churchers often come across as terribly well-designed and boxed in with our neat liturgy and vestmental puffery and all. The experience for a newbie trying to figure out as to what might be all covered up inside us probably can be as off-putting as enticing. It’s when they finally get in and find all this “did-so, did-not” foolishness currently going on that the whole thing may not look so good, after all.
Maybe that old Anglican Divine Richard Hooker himself had some planned obsolescence in mind. The way we’ve banged that three-legged stool around, he surely didn’t expect it to last forever.