Wouldn’t you like at least one more day without politics, culture wars and general mayhem? Me too. This column appeared in The Virginian-Pilot in 2007. Enjoy.

What do cocker spaniels and dishwashers have in common?

Both last about 15 years before they leak on the floor and need a proper burial.

You can live without a dog. It’s a lot harder to get by without a dishwasher.

Yet that’s just what I’ve been doing – look at these hands – ever since my GE Potscrubber 1130 suddenly shut down last month.

I should have seen it coming. All through the holidays, my dishes were emerging from the dry cycle decorated with disgusting bits of baked-on dinner.

Apparently, like an old dog on its last legs, the Potscrubber was just going through the motions. It made a racket, belched and took a nap.

When the repairman came and discovered a rusty puddle under the motor, he gave me the bad news.

“It’s done,” he said somberly. Time to get a new one.

I know what you’re thinking. This is not a big deal. What kind of dope waits weeks to buy a dishwasher?

I didn’t mean for this to happen. I figured it would take maybe 20 minutes to find a replacement.

“What exactly are you looking for?” the salesman asked at the first big-box store.

“Something that’ll get my dishes clean without sounding like it has a garage band inside,” I said.

“Well, we certainly have lots to choose from,” he said, gesturing grandly at an astonishing assortment of white, black and stainless machines. He smiled and said a lot had changed since the last time I was dishwasher shopping.

I’ll say. The price, for instance.

“How much do you want to spend?” he wanted to know as we walked the first row.

Trick question, that. I don’t want to spend a dime. There are hundreds of things I’d rather drop my dough on.

No one ever notices your appliances, unless you have one that puffs out plumes of steam and drowns out conversation.

One thing’s certain. By the time I have a new dishwasher, I’ll be out anywhere from $200 to two grand. All this for something my grandmother did by hand three times a day.

But you should have seen those hands.

In the weeks since that first outing, I’ve plundered the consumer guides and wandered through numerous outlets. It’s dizzying.

The aisles are lined with the friendly sounding brands we all know: Whirlpool, Maytag, KitchenAid. As well as a bunch of foreign-sounding ones we don’t: Miele, Bosch, Fisher & Paykel.

They all seem so full of promise.

Precision Wash! Power Scour! Sensotronic Soil Sensor!

Whisper Quiet Plus! Ultra Quiet Sound Package! Triple Filtration!

They come with integrated electronics, which sounds like a good thing.

And nylon racks, which doesn’t.

Some models have “standard” tubs. Others “tall” tubs. A few boast “giant” tubs. Odd. When you open the doors, they all look the exactly the same, give or take a couple of inches.

Why all this dishwasher despair?

I want to find the perfect one.

You see, 15 years with a great dog isn’t long enough. But 15 years with a bad appliance is an eternity.