Let’s see. Time to take one of my favorite high-performance machines out for a spin.
Which will it be today? The sleek Italian one?
Nah, it’s broken down – again – in the garage.
The little red German runabout? Maybe. Or the other German one, the orange one with all the bells and whistles?
Maybe some good old fashioned American muscle, the one with lots of power and the slick automatic transmission. Or perhaps the SUV.
Ok, so how do I afford so many cars and where do I store them, right?
Not quite. Exec. Chef Heatherann and I have two cars, neither of which is described above. No, despite similarities to cars of their various nations, each machine I’ve described is a vacuum cleaner.
It’s time for a confession, right here in the café: Hi, my name is Rick and I collect vacuum cleaners.
(sound of crickets chirping.)
Why? Why collect an appliance, for heaven’s sake? Why collect something that gathers dirt from rugs and floors, scares the cats, and takes up valuable garage space?
Fair question. Short answer is, I don’t know.
See, I’ve always had an affinity for mechanical and/or electrical devices of all sorts from the time I was a child. You name it, if it plugged into a wall socket, I could be entertained by it. Mixers, radios, record players, copy machines, etc.
That pretty much holds true today. I love watching complex machinery in operation. Printing presses for example. Lots of moving parts, lots of noise, huge rolls of paper traveling from one side of the room to the other.
And while I’m glad I became a journalist in the era of computers instead of the typewriter, I’m slightly disappointed I’ve never actually seen a Linotype typesetting machine in operation. Molten lead, multiple motors, lines of words moving to and fro. What’s not to love?
But for some reason, the vacuum cleaner was always the one machine nearest and dearest to my heart.
Maybe it’s the sheer mechanical nature of it. It’s basically nothing more than a motorized fan that picks up dirt and blows it into a container, nothing more, nothing less. Really a simple device at heart.
Ah, but the execution, that’s another story. Take that SUV, for example, one of the newest additions to the collection. That’s what Hoover called a “Sport Utility Vacuum.” Looks like the illegitimate spawn of E.T. and #5 from “Short Circuit.” THREE motors. Lighted electronic controls. A complex dirt path guaranteed to clog. Weighs close to 30 pounds. It’s a technological nightmare just waiting to break – and that’s what makes it interesting.
Compare that to the Kirby G3 – a relatively simple design that hasn’t really changed much since Jim Kirby produced his first model nearly a century ago. Very powerful, built to withstand an earthquake, heavy, no frills -- except that automatic transmission for the self-propel feature. Although nearly as heavy as the Hoover, it's far lighter to operate.
The Germans take a different approach. The little red Miele canister is mostly plastic, very high performance, lots of attention to detail. The bright orange Sebo upright is a fun color, lightweight, blinking lights, variable speed, all the bells and whistles.
Just as with cars, the Italians build a high performance vacuum, the Lindhaus. And like too many Italian cars, the example in the collection is under-engineered, breaking down at the drop of a dust bunny.
Then there’s Ocala’s own contribution to the vacuum marketplace, the late, mostly unlamented Bison. The brainchild of a former Kirby distributor, the Bison was largely a Kirby clone made with cheaper parts and some seriously questionable engineering. The company started in the late ‘60s, collapsed in the ‘80s, the victim of an unreliable product and management woes.
But in between it built Bisons in the building here in Ocala that now houses the E-One fire truck factory welcome center.
It’s an odd duck, the Bison. (Forgive the mixed animal metaphor.) It’s loud, with a variable speed control that gives the user the chance to convince the neighbors that a small jet is about to take off from your living room. It’s ungainly, with a face only a collector could love. It’s badly built, with parts no longer available.
And that’s part of the appeal. The Bison is a small part of Ocala history.
Others have their historic role too. Noted 20th century designers Raymond Loewy, Henry Dreyfuss and Lurelle Guild, among others, designed vacs. The vintage machines of the ‘20s, ‘30s and ‘40s are true works of mechanical art.
So why collect them? Why not? They’re out there dirt cheap (hey, I’m entitled to ONE pun here.) and they’re entertaining to me. Some folks collect old typewriters, others cameras, some even collect antique ice cream scoops. And Exec Chef Heatherann doesn’t have to worry about who does the vacuuming. Happy Hoovering!
