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By Curt MacDougall

As near as we can figure, it dates from 1999 — a gift to christen the newly renovated kitchen at our previous house. It was ever the cheerful toaster, like a ray of KitchenAid sunshine in its ‘Majestic Yellow’ coat. With a somewhat retro appearance, it has browned innumerable loaves of bread and untold truckloads of pop-tarts.

Only in the last year or two had it begun to show signs of aging. The large plastic tab used to lower product into the chamber and begin the toasting process worked its way loose, causing one’s thumb to sometimes slip during the downward push. A minor inconvenience for such a trustworthy friend.

Its demise was swift and, I can only hope, painless. During reconnaissance in the bowels of the freezer, where half-bags of tater tots and long forgotten veggie sausage patties lie in cryogenic stasis, I came across some Trader Joe’s hash browns. Pre-formed, like what you might get at McDonalds, but without the ‘golden arches’ guilt. Just the thing to break me out of my cereal rut. I would resurrect one of these potato hockey pucks, maybe throw a fried egg on top, a little OJ…

I was already salivating as I pulled them from their frosty sarcophagus.

But my anticipation was put on hold when I read the instructions — 15 minutes in a 400-degree oven. Seems like an excessive output of energy for one measly hash brown patty (imagine my family’s joy at having Captain Planet in their midst). So I opted for the toaster. It would probably take a few cycles with the browning control set to 11, but the process would still come nowhere near expending as much fossil fuel as the oven.

In it went, as I peered down the bread slot with a smug smile on my face for having outwitted the energy wastrels at TJ’s test kitchen.

The fatal flaw in my plan — as the patty warmed, it also softened, slouching casually to one side. And when the toaster tried to pop up, the patty caught on the wire innards of the chamber and kept it from fully ejecting. A fork meant to dislodge the flaccid spud cake proved ineffective, merely tearing pieces loose that then tumbled into the guts of the toaster. All I could do was tip the entire kit and caboodle over and shake violently until the offender fell limply to the counter, along with several decades worth of accumulated crumbs.

And when I set the toaster back and went to put the patty in for a second time because, well, it wasn’t done, the locking mechanism that keeps everything in the down position no longer locked.

At that moment I thought I heard the sound of "Taps" being played...gently.

Even my formidable handyman skills (which in cases such as this usually involve banging on the recalcitrant device with varying degrees of force) weren’t enough to mend its broken soul. It still heats up, mind you, so long as you hold the lever down, but that appears to be a deal-breaker for some.

It was the trendsetter, with enough cachet to dictate the design of our current kitchen. The mixer, purchased in the same ‘Majestic’ hue, the backsplash chosen for its hints of pale yellow, the matching butter dish, salt box, sugar bowl and wall pockets that contrast perfectly with the smoky green color chosen for the cabinetry. So nothing else will do. And, of course, it’s been discontinued.

That’s why mornings will find me standing over the toaster, holding down the lever. Because it’s either that or another kitchen remodel.

— Curt MacDougall

Curt's journey has been unconventional, to say the least, something he likens to Forrest Gump and his box of chocolates. From airborne traffic reporter to marketing shlub, freelance columnist and television news producer, the road has never been boring. And through it all there was the need to write, whether it was jokes for a radio morning show, website content for an engineering firm, humorous musings in one of Michigan's largest daily papers or scripts meant to make news anchors sound as if they knew what they were talking about. Other examples can be seen at his blog, Lies Jack Kerouac Told Me, where he writes “largely about small matters and smally about great affairs,” to borrow from James Thurber (another inspiration).