Why Not to Steam Clean on Sunday

Even if you're really tempted to do it, don't steam clean your carpets on Sunday. Why, you ask? I'll tell you:

-You'll stub your toe while moving your furniture
-Your steam cleaner will dispense the soapy water, but it won't suck it up
-You'll run out of cleaning solution when you're only half way done
-You'll drop the dispenser in the toilet when you're dumping out the water
-You'll break the handle of the cleaner when you knock it over
-Your home teacher will make an unexpected visit when you're halfway done (the part when you're cursing the machine for not picking up the water)
-You'll discover someone took the last Diet Coke from your secret hiding place in the fridge (but not until you're done with the unusually grueling job and ready to sit down and admire your hard work)
-Seeing your frustration, your teenage son will say, "I told you so!"

The Escape Gazelle

Nine months ago I bought at Gazelle (exercise machine) from a U of M student who lived in a grimy apartment in student housing. I paid $75 cash. The Gazelle sat in my basement until January, when I suddenly had a burst of post-holiday energy and assembled it.

Almost every day after work, I don my ill fitting, outdated gym clothes and hit the Gazelle for 30 minutes of so. But, this is not your ordinary Gazelle. This one has magical powers -- assisted in great measure by the wonder of a DVD player and free travel DVDs from the library. Each time I exercise, the Gazelle whisks me away on a new adventure. I can hardly wait to see what wonderous place awaits me each day.

In the past few weeks, I've been to Greece, Turkey, Israel, France, Italy, Germany, Switzerland, Croatia and Hungary. I stare in wonder and amazement at the adventures awaiting me someday (someday far, far off, I fear), I can nearly hear the crashing sea off the cliffs of western Ireland, smell the grapes in the vineyards of France, hear the accordian at the folklife festival in Germany, and taste the freshly pressed olive oil in Italy. Last night, I truly cried at the sight of the emerald fields of Ireland - home to some of my ancestors. I'd never seen anything so amazing, so charming, so alluring.

I never imagined that this humble machine, bought used and without warranty, would bring such pure pleasure as I ride it minute after minute in my lowly basement. It sets my heart soaring (literally and figuratively); my imagination run wild!

So, even though my clothes are actually getting tighter and my appetite is increasing (if you saw all those gastronomical delights, you'd come off the Gazelle ready to eat the house, too), I am not about to give up my escapercise to anything right now. My secret fear: i know I'll eventually run out of travel DVDs and then be condemned to ride a decrepit machine in a dark basement.