Zen And The Art Of Suck

Owning a house of floorboards, I always assumed I could get by on the old fashioned methods of mop and broom. For the most part, this theory was sound, but once a year my two feline friends decided to debunk this methodology in the most effective way they could think of. Being a pair of deceptively long-haired cats, as soon as the temperature takes that first ten degree leap at the start of Summer, they drop their coats everywhere possible. What this means is that most years I will go to sleep on a balmy night, only to awake and find an allergy-inciting white Christmas downstairs. I would grumble and then deal with it via sweeping and various sticky and brush-based hair removing devices, but after this year’s spectacular effort I decided it was time to move into the 20th century, and deal with it via suction.

My idea of high-cleaning-technology

I was extremely lucky to have someone aid me in this new crusade, by giving me the Christmas gift of a vacuum cleaner. Even from here I can hear the raised eyebrows and bemused expressions, but I tell you what – I have never been happier to receive a domestic device, especially this one which borders on something that looks like it could defend our planet. Allow me to elaborate.

The Dyson Stowaway - Sounds like it belongs on a pirate ship, looks like it should be on the Enterprise!




The device in question is a Dyson Stowaway, and whether or not this was inspired by the similarly future-themed character from Terminator 2 is open to speculation.


















However, the appliance itself is fact – it is a durable plastic body with various clips and buttons that allow it to be broken down into individual, yet high-tech elements. Boasting cyclone technology, I can only assume that this means the fine folk at Dyson have indeed trapped the meteorological phenomena inside the shiny casing. I do appreciate having high-technology in my home – I appreciate mystical imprisoning of air elements even more so!

Assembly was too easy. An instruction manual was supplied, labelling the component attachment order numerically, and indicating “Click!” where the pieces would snap together with said sound resulting. The finished product has a range of attachments, big colour-coded buttons and an overall look that makes me want to strap it on my back and bust ghosts.

The telescoping wand, or as I prefer to call it, “Vacuum Lance”, has a hefty grip, locking segments and an overall look that makes me want to pierce the target of my cleaning. Attached via the traditional flexible hose, the wheeled base, or “Aerial Vortex Generator” looks not dissimilar to a weapon employed by the Autobot Ironhide in Michael Bay’s recent Transformer films.












This is the part that somehow continues to create unlimited suction via the trapped air daemon. There is no bag in this design, but rather a clear chamber, or “Visual Domestic Victory Indicator” that indicates how much of the planet I have managed to trap. This constant reminder had me stop and consider whereabouts this muck all comes from (except the cat hair – I have pretty sound theories about that), and I’ve decided I have no idea.










Sooo...


If I vacuum and remove all that is on the floor of my house on a regular basis, then I dump it in the bin and it is sent to a tip/incinerator/shot into space, then we must be gradually moving a large amount of matter into a few specific locations/the sun, thus reducing the matter available to be re-tread into my dwelling. Part of me argues that soil erosion will provide more muck, but another part argues that there is little dust and dirt in my muck reservoir, err Visual Domestic Victory Indicator. Then there's dead skin, airborne particles of various natures, ghost residue, etc etc...

It matters not. I will now be on a regular crusade to hunt down the hair, delve out the dust and rustle out the refuse. Then I’ll suck’em all up.

(There was an ill-fitting Ghostbusters joke to fit in the end there, but I cut it for decency. Leave a comment and return address if you are dying to know what it was.)

Q: True or False - Bob Geldof's daughter Peaches, is neither here nor there? A: The answer was "False - she's everywhere".
Song for the day: "Frank and Jesse James" by Warren Zevon