I Do Windows

By Mary Mendoza

The latest chapter in our home remodeling saga began last fall when our gas wall heater went on the fritz. Little did we know at the time this minor event would forever change our lives and push me closer to the brink of insanity.

I called Bud, a local contractor my mother recommended, to repair the heater. He dismantled it, displayed his plumber's crack and told me we needed a "special" part.

Three bone-chilling weeks later Bud's sidekick Owen, a disgruntled fellow who was missing two fingers, came to install the "special" part and to show off his plumber's crack. The part cost 87-cents, labor was $155, no charge for the display of flesh.

The heater malfunctioned ten days later during a bitter cold snap. This time I called Skip, a contractor who had an impressive full-page ad in the Yellow Pages. Skip arrived in a new Lincoln Continental. He was wearing a Ralph Lauren suit, Bruno Magli loafers, and sported a diamond pinky ring. He looked like Dean Martin but once he opened his mouth all similarities ended.

Skip barely glanced at the heater before telling me we should quit monkeying around with 87-cent parts and buy his $5,500 heating unit, which was powerful enough to heat Cleveland. He felt morally obligated to point out our critical need for new windows to replace our hideous old aluminum ones. For $7,000 more, Skip would install hassle-free, no warp, no peel, no chip, vinyl windows. Additionally, he could give us a deal on a tankless cereal-box size water heater for $3,300, extra thick insulation for $1,200 and a Ken and Barbie backyard swing set for $895.

I sent Skip away to look for another pigeon and called Gary who I found in the Yellow Pages under Contractors, Last Ditch Effort. Gary drove up in an old blue pickup truck, was wearing an outfit from Sears and looked like Tommy, of Rugrats fame.

He immediately identified the problem as a faulty thermocouple, whipped a new one out of his tool kit, did not display his plumber's crack and got the heater working for $86.

Several weeks later, basking in the warmth of the heater, I brought up the subject of windows to my husband.

"Maybe Skip was right, our windows are in bad shape."

"Skip who?"

"Lincoln Continental, diamond ring, seven thousand dollars. That Skip."

"We are not buying a seven thousand dollar vinyl windows from a guy who wears a diamond pinky ring."

"Honey, do you remember when I got Hung up on Curtains? Why not let me use that knowledge to find us some new windows?"

He reluctantly agreed and I spent the next six months conducting an in-depth investigation of the window industry that would rival anything the CIA has going in Latin America.

In the spring, when other more rational people were out picking daffodils, I called a family conference to present my findings. I put on a business suit and set up an easel in the living room.

"As you can see from these charts and graphs," I said, "Wood is clearly the way to go. Not only is wood more beautiful than vinyl it's in keeping with the character of our 1940s cottage and can be stained or painted to my exact specifications."

"The deciding factors," I continued, tapping the easel for emphasis, "were the mortise and tenon technology used in the construction of the windows, their durable metal-clad exteriors, and energy-efficient insulating qualities. These windows are the ideal choice for discerning homeowners like us."

"I screened dozens of window manufacturers and interrogated salesmen from coast to coast. After careful consideration I chose a company that seems able to withstand what I will throw at them. That is why," I paused dramatically, "I have chosen Pella! I will now take questions from the audience."

My husband's hand shot up. "How much will they cost?"

"Did I mention that Pella windows are beautiful?"

"What's the price tag?" my husband asked.

"Many celebrities own wood windows. Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones, Oprah, Arnold and Maria..."

My son's hand shot up. "How much are they Mom?"

"Not nearly as expensive as you'd think."

"Meaning what?" my husband said.

"I'll write the figure on a piece of paper, dear. You can look at it later when you're more rested."

"Quit stalling. Just tell me."

"Let me put it this way. The windows will cost less than Skip's new Lincoln Continental and only slightly more than his diamond pinky ring."

We placed the order the minute my husband regained consciousness.

Next on Madcap Mary: Our windows get a police escort

Biographical Sketch - Mary Mendoza

Madcap Mary Mendoza, formerly known as Hurricane Mary, lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, son, three cats and 200,000 Sunset magazines.

Madcap's humor columns and feature stories have appeared in publications around the Northwest as well as online. She is the author of The Adventures of Madcap Mary, a collection of humorous stories. Madcap can be reached at mcmendoza@ispiral.com. Visit Madcap's site! http://www.madcapmary.com.