Dear Dyson

I just wrote the following letter to the powers that be at Dyson. I wonder what kind of response, if any, I'll get...

Dear Dyson,

Nearly two years ago I purchased a DC33 vacuum from a local Target store, the second I have purchased in five years. I have since wondered why I did so as I have had the same issue with the second as I did the first. No, it didn't break; I left it with my ex-husband during a generous moment. Actually, that's not true. It wouldn't fit in the truck and I thought taking the crib was more important. Ahem...moving on...

 

What drives me nuts about this vacuum is the hose for the attachments. It is stiff and uncooperative even after all this time. As I said, I had the same problem with the first one for three years. It caused many gray hairs to sprout and may very well have ended my marriage. Well, not really but... Using my current one is as difficult now as it was when it was new. Two years ago. I stretch it out completely and begin to aim toward what needs cleaned (ceilings, corners, etc.) and it retreats back to it's original length within a minute causing the vacuum itself to tip over. Every. Single. Time. On top of that, it is causing me to say things that my four-year-old may or may not be repeating to the preacher on Sundays. Definitely not a good thing since I'm otherwise very mild-mannered and I usually don't spout vulgarities unless I am under extreme duress.

 

Your commercials show how user friendly the onboard attachments are and this is just not true as I have spoken to other customers who have the same issue and will never buy another Dyson product. I don't want to go that far because, for one reason, with the exception of the $%@# hose, I like the way it works. For another, I'm flat broke and can't afford to buy a toy broom, let alone a new vacuum cleaner.

 

What I want to know is how can this be resolved? All I ever hear in your ads is about innovative design, how suction is never lost, blah blah blah. And that is true (unless you happen to suck up a toy soldier or too much long, red hair). You never mention lost patience with a machine that frustrates me to no end each time I use it. I am just tired of the struggle. I can't take it much longer and I worry that my poor, aggravating vacuum will suffer the consequences.

 

I hope you respond to my question and end my torment. I get extremely stressed when I even think about sucking the occasional spider web from the corners of my family room and it's almost that time of year when I need to clean out the dryer vent. I hope you have a way to end my anguish.

 

Sincerely,

Suzanna Kellye

See Ya Later

I remember many years ago saying goodbye to my mother at the Pittsburgh airport before I boarded a plane to Dallas with my husband and two-year-old daughter. We were leaving after a week-long visit. Tears flowed down my mother’s face and I felt bad but I was ready to leave the cold and the snow that had fallen during our time there and get back to my warm Southern home. I never thought about her pain, even though we were very close, until recently when I left my own daughter at the airport in Baton Rouge.

I hadn’t seen my younger daughter in nearly two years when she came to visit at the end of September this year. I started crying as soon as I caught a glimpse of her coming down the escalator at the airport. She was sobbing when she got to me. We aren’t an exceptionally weepy group; we just have a very special relationship, my daughters and I. A closeness that I cherish. Something that time and distance can never diminish. And I count myself as very blessed to have that with both of them.

My girlie’s visit wasn’t very stimulating. When asked what she wanted to see and do while she was here, she said she only wanted to spend time with me. With her sister and nephew as well. And visit the Super Target, something that apparently doesn’t exist in Southwestern Pennsylvania. We got a family portrait done while we were there, the first since 2008 and the only one done of just the four us. That was an adventure in itself as Elijah was “in a mood” and not inclined to cooperate. They turned out very nice in spite of that. We spent a lot of time in the pool, alternately trying to work off the meals I was cooking...all of her favorites...and get the Yankee a little color on her otherwise pale skin. Poor thing inherited her grandmother’s Irish complexion and was just as colorless upon her return home.

The only excitement we had while she was here was the hot air balloon festival we took in one morning before hitting the outlets. Unless you count the accident that Elijah had while playing at Burger King’s play area. He was having too much fun to come out and use the restroom so he used his pants and then slid down the sliding board. His mother wasn’t thrilled as she headed in with a bottle of Lysol and a handful of paper towels to clean it up. We won’t be going back there to eat for a very long while because, even though we cleaned up his mess, the management wasn’t pleased.  Perhaps they’ll forget about it in time. I rather doubt my daughter will.

Anyway, back to my mother… Mom and I spent a lot of time together after I moved back to the Pittsburgh area. Shopping trips, bird watching on the porch swing, lunches at the Italian Oven. My girlies loved being on the farm so we spent a lot of our days there. As I made dinner every evening after work, I would talk to her on the phone until my dad would say “Why don’t you tell her to just come over?” Since it was only about three miles, I did that a lot.

The distance between my daughter and I is easier to bear now due to technology. Skype, free mobile minutes, Facetime. I’m sure it was harder for my mom. I can’t imagine going weeks without talking to my girl as she had to do.

I thought of all of this as I left my baby girl at the airport. Without her sister and our boy with me, I would have had a rougher time but it was hard. The delay she had at the airport and subsequent overnight stay in Houston after missing her connection to Pittsburgh didn’t help. I wanted to drive to Texas to get her because, even though she’s an adult, my little girl was spending the night all alone in a strange city. After she finally made it home, I cried for two days. Her visit was too short, the distance too great. I now know what my mother was feeling all those years ago. The agony of saying goodbye (or “see ya later” as we do in our family) is almost a physical pain. I’m forcing myself to grin and bear it until April when she comes back again. With plenty of Skype in the meantime…