Is it wrong to love an appliance?

Contrary to popular belief, necessity isn't the mother of invention.

Convenience is.

I can't imagine how, but for hundreds of years people somehow muddled through and found ways to clean dust from their homes even though relegated to primitive means like cloths and brooms.

If they'd had the Dustbuster back then, they would have thought they'd died and gone to heaven. I know I felt a little of that the first time I used one (yes, I'm that easy to please).

I remember thinking I should've bought stock in Black and Decker, because I knew this little beauty was going to be big. When I saw it, it called to me. It was plugged in, charged up and just waiting for me to get my hands on it.

Or was that my high school girlfriend? I get confused.

Anyway, once I did, it was go time. I couldn't wait to find dust. I remember saying, "I'll clean that up" more than ever. Including to my high school girlfriend.

The Dustbuster was such a revelation and joy to use, I'd actually spill things like salt and potting soil "accidentally" just so I could grab the DB and impress whoever was nearby with how effortlessly I could scoop it up.

Kitty litter? Bring it on. Too much free time? Perhaps.

As we all come to find out at one time or another though, appliance love is a fickle thing. And because it is, sometimes we just have to move on.

For me moving on meant the Braun Electric Juicer.

To me, one of life's great luxuries is fresh squeezed orange juice. But if you've ever ordered it in a restaurant, you know you need a co-signer and a notary just to get a 4 oz. glass of the stuff.

The Braun's beauty lies in it's simplicity. Press the orange down, it automatically juices it into a pitcher, which you then pour into the waiting glass. It's three, hard plastic pieces can be easily taken apart, rinsed and cleaned. Sure, I could've gone fancier with the Cuisinart or Kitchen Aid, but why? With oranges it's the juice not the juicer people are impressed by.

At least that's what I've been telling myself.

Sometimes though, you come to a place in your life where you mature (I'm still waiting to get to that place) and you find your heart can hold enough love for two appliances. So while the Braun Juicer is still near and dear, so is this.

The Black & Decker Power Screwdriver. First the Dustbuster and now this. It's like Black & Decker is reading my mind. Ever since I discovered this little tool, I've been able to maintain the illusion of household handyman. Smoke detectors, easy. Light switch plates, simple. Outdoor security lighting with motion sensors and variable lighting, call the electrician. Still, I'm able to do what I can do without the risk of repeat motion injury to the wrist. At least not from a screwdriver.

But just when I thought I was ready to settle, look who decides to roll into my life.

My Staples 12-sheet capacity cross-cut paper shredder. My conspirator, my financial protector, my confidant. Thanks to it's unique cutting sound and brute strength, it allows me to feel a sense of security none of my other appliances offer. I feel safe with it. I know it won't tell my secrets. Occasionally it jams when I try to stuff too much into it, but who amongst us doesn't?

Clearly I have an appreciation for this utilitarian kind of technology far more than I ever could've imagined. I'm emotionally involved, and I think I know why I fall so hard every time.

These days, when it seems nothing works the way it's supposed to, these simple yet devoted appliances do exactly what they've promised me they would. And I love them for it.

Is that so wrong?