In With the New-Trients

Just two days ago I mourned the loss of something important in my life and a good friend. My new juicer.

But the hell with that, I got a brand spanking new one!!!!


Now leave it to mom. She saw the post the other day about losing my juicer and even 2300 miles away she knows her child needs nutrition and how much my juicing is part of every day. So she took care of it for me and I’ve got this brand new one. Thanks MOM!

Man look how it shines! I’m afraid to use it. I remember just two days ago when I had to dispose of the old one. It was stained with the orange of carrots. This one’s so beautiful, it’s aluminum finish reflecting the light and I don’t want it to discolor. I want it to remain pure.

But I’m gonna be out of orange juice tomorrow. I’m gonna need to take it for a spin—literally. I think I’m gonna go bold and see if I can find some pineapple and dare to mix orange, grapefruit and pineapple. It’s got two speeds, I bet it can handle it.

The juicing won’t cease, it can’t. Out with the old and in with the new. I’ll miss you Power Juicer but the Breville is mine now. I’m well taken care of, you can rest easy.



A Tremendous Loss

I don’t know the right words, I don’t even know how I really feel. I’m stunned. I’ve lost a true friend. I’ve lost my juicer.

There’s something ironic about the Jack Lalanne Power Juicer falling apart and lying on the counter, broken and beat up, stained with the blood of carrots and beets, the years and work having taken its toll.


I wanted to hug it. I felt about my juicer the way that Pixar made us feel about Wall-E. It wasn’t just a machine. It had feelings, it had meaning, it had purpose. And it was hurt.

I just stared for a long time. And then I carefully picked up the pieces to see if it could be put back together. But unfortunately it had fought for so long, the plastic around the connecting screws was worn, there was no way it could be glued back together!

And I saw it coming. I knew it. Just one week ago, I lifted it up by its locking handle and it separated. It was hurt. But I didn’t want to believe. I didn’t want to believe the end was near. I was selfish. I wanted MY juice. I wanted MY goodness. ME ME ME.

I’d taken care of it, I washed it carefully after each use. It was just old. It worked hard. It was time.

But how to dispose of it. I wondered if I should bury it. Should I recycle it. I just can’t bring myself to just toss it into the trash. And now the space on the counter is so empty. I have a couple of liters of juice but it will have to be replaced. It’s so hard to think of. Will this new one feel the same, will it sound the same? Will the juice taste the same?

We’ve lived through oranges and grapefruit and pineapple together, kale, spinach, tomatoes and carrots, and even one eye-opening foray with garlic.

I’ll miss you.




How To Say It

I consider myself a very loyal person; I’ve never cheated on a girlfriend, I try not to bad-mouth anyone, in fact look for ways to suggest that others look at things in a different way, and I will not forsake a friend for monetary gain. That’s what makes this predicament so hard for me. I’ve been cheating, I’ve been disloyal, I am thinking of this new thing in my life in a better light. Yes, I’m talking about my juicer.

I have a Jack Lalanne Power Juicer. Had it for three years. He’s my buddy, he’s an important part of my day like I’m sure his namesake once was for millions of people. He makes me feel good. I take care of him, cleaning him carefully. I would say it’s more of a she than a he because of my feelings but then I’m simply being homophobic that I can’t have feelings for a male product.

The truth is that it’s been my only love for these past few years. When I visit my parents I miss the way he makes me feel. I miss him being part of my day. Until this trip.

My mom bought the Breville Juice Fountain Plus and I don’t know how I’m going to feel when I go home. There are two speeds. The whole things is sturdier, faster, it came with a small pitcher the juice flows into (with a lid!) instead of using a small glass. And with the discount my mom had, it was only about $25 more.

The first day I used it I cut my finger on the blade. I don’t know, somehow that made me respect it more. Know that it demanded respect and care. And respected that.

I’m afraid of how I’ll feel when Jack isn’t as smooth, as efficient, as dare I say, pretty. I like the fake chrome look of the bevel and the tinted plastic, it’s cooler. The white and green will be like going to college and then seeing your high school friends again.

But he’s been with me for a long time. He’s been the thing that keeps me in good spirits. I can’t forget what he’s meant as I struggled through career changes, a new state, a new life. I have to remember what we’ve been through together.

Until I can afford to replace him.