This month’s Hot Science-y Guy really sucks. Okay, James Dyson doesn’t suck, but his inventions sure as heck do. Just ask my friend, Bob, who recently purchased the Dyson Animal Model No. I-Don’t-Know−Exactly-but-It’s-a-Lovely-Shade-of-Purple.
And boy-oh-boy! I sure would like one of these bad boys for myself. And this time, when I say “bad boy”, I don’t mean that in my usual way (see previous “Sparky” references). I mean I really want one of Mr. Dyson’s vacuums! Vacuuming is something I really like doing in the way of household chores. There’s a lot of bang-for-your-buck with vacuuming. It’s a mild workout, sort of like mowing the lawn indoors, and you get to see immediate results – especially if you don’t do it for a few months and eat a lot of chips and crackers and Top Ramen straight out of the package. And while the Swiffer Carpet Flick is truly a must-have (as are most things in the Swiffer line of home maintenance – trust me!), I dream of one day owning a Dyson.
I first became acquainted with this fabulous appliance at last year’s Interior Design Show. There I was on Trade Day, scarf-tossing with the best of them, when I noticed my dear friend, Bob, was missing from my side. Was he mesmerized by a supplier of indoor water features (always a big draw) or grabbing an $8.75 plastic-wrapped turkey sandwich? No! He had stopped to watch a demo at the Dyson booth. I was gobsmacked. Having just purchased a new house, Bob was supposed to be on the lookout for reasonably-priced cork flooring and closet organizers – not a vacuum cleaner. But there he was, a rapt one-man audience far away from the cork floor and closet exhibits, listening in earnest to a middle-aged Dyson Toronto Representative pouring her honey-sweet palaver into his captive earhole. I thought at first that he was just trapped into habitual politeness and was, perhaps, hoping I’d arrive to pull him away – but not so. Ms. Dyson Rep was not your usual Electrolux yammerer. Ms. Dyson Rep was into her thing! And how could she be otherwise? Dyson vacuums rock! No bags. No suction-loss. Easy disposal of sucked-up crap. Awesome hose extension. Etc., etc. Listen, you don’t need me to sell you on the fine points of an iPod or a PlayStation or a 50″ plasma television. They’re all lovely things to have and covet and steal if you can get away with it. But, me, I am so saving up for a Dyson vacuum.
And as for Mr. Dyson himself, he’s certainly not an unattractive. That finely-polished Brit accent of his is as smooth and lush as Bob’s newly-installed cherry hardwood flooring. Plus, it would seem, for all his multi-multi-millions of pounds sterling and super-engineering science-y know-how, Mr. Dyson actually helps out around the mansion with the day-to-day clean-up.
Word to Mrs. James Dyson: You lucky woman, you – you’ve got a hot one!