This weekend I encountered a very old and cranky vacuum and was actually there as it combusted.

I was part of the team that sanitized my grandparents house for the new renters. My mom said she had the vacuum fixed, so I began to use it on the varying lengths of shag carpet that covers a vast expanse of the house's floor.

In the dining room (that's right folks, in the dining room) this vacuum began to complain quite a bit. Naturally I was a bit miffed, I mean this vacuum was old school, as in it used knobs instead of buttons, made of metal and thick fabric (no plastic), and weighed significantly, so I was thinking, Oh give it a rest--it's not like you're making this easy on me.

Mr. Vacuum heard my thoughts and started to really speak quite profusely, changing in pitch, speed, and volume. It was all quite interesting. But you see, I don't speak vacuumise, so I didn't know how to respond. Then all of a sudden he gave one last final startling POP.

I turned it off, afraid it was going to eat me, and flipped it over. It was literally smoking. And I thought, but it's a vacuum. Evidence of the damage were the shards and pieces of its inside falling out (most of it glass--what?). Also randomly a giant magnet was stuck to his underside holding on to various needles, pins, and screws.

Moral: You can't send out and fix old age crankiness, even in vacuums.