The greatest invention of all time (Wow! That\u2019s putting it out there) is the automatic washing machine. No one calls it an \u201cautomatic\u201d washer anymore. Today\u2019s generation has no idea what the world was like when this invention first started showing up in basements across America in the 1950\u2019s. It replaced the \u201cwringer\u201d washing machine, which was nothing more than a steel drum with an agitator motor to slosh the clothes around and a set of rolling pin like bars that you fed the clothes into to wring out the excess water. Even that device was a step up from a hand cranked wringer and a stick to push the clothes back and forth in a tub. Before that, I guess it was the \u201cbeat the clothes on a rock by the side of the creek\u201d process. I don\u2019t go back quite that far, but I was there when my mother got her \u201cautomatic\u201d washing machine. <\/p>\n
It was installed in the basement, a few feet from a matched set of stationary tubs that were used to presoak clothes before they went into the wringer washer. My mother kept up the presoak process, like many housewives of the day, because she didn\u2019t trust the \u201cnewfangled\u201d machine to get clothes clean with such little effort. Kind of like, what many of us do today, by rinsing dishes thoroughly before stacking them in the dishwasher.<\/p>\n
Eventually, people accepted the change and stopped the pre-wash step. The term, \u201cautomatic\u201d was put aside and the washer machine became simply, the washer. So here I am, sixty some years later, using an automatic washer, despite getting a, \u201cTsk, tsk, tsk,\u201d from my wife when I do so. I usually wait until I\u2019m home alone, just like I do when I climb the ladder to wash or paint our 212-year-old clapboards. I\u2019m happiest when I\u2019m unsupervised; I can ignore her plea of, \u201cJust let me do your wash.\u201d <\/p>\n