a confession

I have been known to complain here, though I haven’t recently, of which I am certain you are grateful, about fabrications in books that are labeled as nonfiction. Generally this happens in autobiography or memoir. Sometimes only names are changed to protect the guilty. Other times the events described are wholly imaginary. (Think of the story “Julia” in Lillian Hellman’s Pentimento.)

In this blog I have pledged that everything I say about my life is true, but I have stated that I reserve the right not to tell you everything. That pledge is unchanged.

PressureCookerI am, however, motivated to confess to a specific lacuna in a recent blog post. I wrote about my pressure cooker not working correctly and ultimately realizing that I was not turning the lid the correct direction. What I failed to tell you was how I discovered that.

I had decided that, in spite of my state of being in career transition, I really wanted to have a working pressure cooker, and that I could handle the cost of getting a new one. I decided that I could afford the cost of a replacement Cuisinart with one of those ubiquitous 20% off coupons from Bed Bath & Beyond. I went over there and bought the new pressure cooker. When I opened the box, I saw that there was a change to the model. On the lid was a label that indicated which direction was open and which direction was close. I immediately realized my stupidity. I did the water test on the old machine, saw that it was in perfect working order, and returned the new pressure cooker to BB&B. I wasn’t able to figure out how to return the box to its original state, but I packed up all of the components, and I trust that the folks at BB&B had the ability to properly repack the box and return it to the shelf without any financial loss.

I guess I have to chalk it up to one of those brain lapses to which people our age are subject.

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