I’m in charge of all vacuuming at our house. I probably have as much vacuum experience as any person in the country, besides professional house cleaners of course. There’s a particular vacuum pattern in carpet that I strive for. It’s much like a crosshatch pattern in football or baseball field grass.
At my disposal is a central vac and an Oreck portable. The central vacuum is my favorite, yet can be a hassle when the hose gets kinked, which is often. Getting a nozzle too close to my wife’s dresser, I’ve accidentally sucked up a few valuables like one of Joleen’s favorite earrings. We eventually found it unscathed in the canister.
The Oreck portable is much handier. I’ll fire it up and be done in half the time as the other. What I don’t like about it are the small bags. Sometimes I forget to change them, and the machine quits sucking. If it’s early morning when this happens, I generally don’t notice. I merely go through the motions of pushing the vacuum around. As long as those crosshatch patterns are showing, I’m okay with the job.
Years ago, a door-to-door Kirby salesman stopped by the trailer park where my family lived. We only had so much carpet in our mobile home. Most of the floor was linoleum.
This salesperson did a superb demonstration on how powerful his vacuum was. First, he had Mom run her well-used Hoover over the carpet. He then cranked up his Kirby and rolled it over the same area. Opening up the bag, there was a sizeable amount of dust and dirt inside.
Dad and Mom were instantly sold on the machine. Mother claimed later on, little did she realize they could’ve replaced the small piece of carpet ten-times, for price of this machine.
A friend of ours purchased a Rainbow vac. Diane swears it’s the best vacuum she’s ever had. It even has a spray paint attachment although I doubt she’s ever used it. Upon learning price, I didn’t inquire further. A small fortune was needed to purchase one.
My daughter came to visit a few months back and watched as I vacuumed the living room. Afterwards, she said it appeared the machine wasn’t doing its job. I could see a nice crosshatch, and that’s all that mattered. Miranda suggested I get a new portable vacuum, one of those turbine-headed ones.
After Miranda left for Minnesota, I started searching the internet for a model like she’d referred to. The Dyson orbital was triple what our old Oreck cost. Deciding to take a plunge, I slapped it on one of our mileage-award credit cards.
After the first vacuuming, I was amazed at all the dust and dirt collected in its hopper. The Dyson doesn’t use bags which is nice. Even more amazing was the professional crosshatch it left behind. The pattern reminded me of New York’s Yankee Stadium before a game.
Much like hot rods, horsepower is king in vacuum cleaners. Good suction requires plenty of it and Dyson delivers. I’d line my Dyson up with Diane’s Rainbow, and my late Mom’s Kirby, any day of the week. As far as that Oreck goes, it’s choking on dust at the back of the pack. The poor machine doesn’t know it yet, but it’s about to become, “Homeless in Havasu.”