On the Ball

Like most engineers, I have an irrational lust towards the newest technology. Even when it is applied to tasks that I ordinarily frarm out to third world nations, like cleaning, if its new, technically sophisticated, and looks like its capable of autonomous killing sprees, I need to have one.

Case in point: the Dyson. Now I have the old Dyson, the tall, yellow fireplug with massive suckability, but once the rolling ball Dysons came out, I lost the ability to sustain an erection because I was now on the cutting edge of five minutes ago. So a month ago I go out to Target and pick up the Ball Vac. Of course I wasn't there looking for vacuum cleaners -- I was there looking for a $24 scale to help me track the extent of my dissapated ass. (the one shining bit of light in this story is that the $24 scale inspired me to lose about 15 pounds and actually step into the apartment Gym once a week.)

So I am about to take off with the scale when the new dyson shines its baleful yellow orb at me and reminds me of my personal insufficiency. I manage to convince myself that it is really only a $200 vacuum cleaner by talking a pair of women into making a bid for my old cleaner for $250. (they never called back.) So I take my shiny behemoth and in a white hot unconscious geek filled rush, take my new queen back to my place for some hot ball on floor action.

Imagine my dissapointment when the brush rollers fail to spin. I pore through the manual, desperate for any clue as to what is going on, and find absolutely zip. Same with the Internet -- there are pages of documents on fixing your Dyson but I'm too veklempt to read them. Impotent with shame and rage, I take my queen back to target in the box to return it.

So a month later, I decide to make another pass at it. I swing by Target, grab another vacuum off the wall, but this time, I'm going to do this the right way. I make an ass of myself in the returns, insisting that they prove that the brushes spin on this vacuum cleaner. Three levels of retail management later, the Man at Target unpacks the vacuum cleaner and proves to me that it is working. So I rush home, thrilled to once again be in the elite club of Dyson ownership.

Once again I plug it in and once again, I cannot get the brushes to spin.

I am of course beside myself at this point. However I am at least partly suspicious that I am doing something wrong. I press every brush related button and spin around in small circles with my new vacuum, feeling like a six year old kid who wanted a bike for christmas and got a sack full of dress socks. Then I notice, the ball that is supposedly the selling point of the vacuum in the first place is not spinning as I vacuum. I kick the foot pedal, rock the vacuum cleaner back and forth, and voila! spinning brushes.

I don't know what this says about Dysons, or me, or vacuums. But it is hopefully hillarious to someone and I wanted to at least let someone else out there know that there is a trick to the Dyson Ball brush: it doesn't start spinning till the yellow ball deploys fully.