Apple-pie order (the car vacuum)

AI Overview

In Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, the phrase “apple-pie order” is used to describe the meticulously organized books and records kept by the Company’s chief accountant at the Central Station. The accountant keeps his books in “apple-pie order”—meaning perfectly arranged, neat, and in flawless condition—despite the surrounding “muddle” of the station, which includes disorganized buildings, decaying machinery, and brutal colonial violence. Marlow respects the accountant’s dedication to his work as a form of “backbone,” yet this obsession with order highlights a profound moral detachment. The accountant focuses entirely on his books, complaining that the groans of a dying, sick agent interrupt his work, while ignoring the larger human tragedy surrounding him.

While there is little that exceeds the theme of domesticity beyond a vacuum cleaner, I confess the handheld car vacuum cleaner is competition.

Today – after a gratifying breakfast at Constance Lake Lodge – we inexplicably focussed upon a handheld car vacuum. The bizarre stimulus (now that I recall) was the sight of an auto parts store adjacent Farm Boy in Stittsville where we had been grocery shopping.  The auto parts store naturally had no such thing as a handheld car vacuum. My partner suggested Canadian Tire instead.  So we sped off to Carleton Place where, upon examining the inventory of handheld vacuums (and there were several of them), we settled upon the Bissell model primarily because on the box it showed an image of the vacuum being used in a car. The photographic imagery, combined with the retail suavity of the Bissell manufacturer’s name, convinced us to buy it.  And we have not been disappointed.

While the weedy connection of this morning’s breakfast jaunt by a lake and the subsequent purchase of a handheld vacuum at Canadian Tire approaches being risible, the event nonetheless marks a record achievement in my lifetime.

To explain, I am bound to confess that issues of domesticity have never held sway with me. At first blush this is odd given my penchant for a clean car. Shamefully perhaps I have a history of having washed my car every day of the year for the past 50 years. In defence, the obsession has been limited to the “easy in, easy out” resource of the modern automatic car wash such as those sponsored by Petro-Canada,  Esso o/a “Circle K” and the privately owned Halo® car wash, through each of which I have from time to time had a 3-month subscription entitling me to daily (or more frequent) washes. Note however that the wash is external only.  It was only when we wintered in the United States of America (where I had similar subscription) that the wash included both inside and out.

On home territory I could bear the deprivation of repeated internal detailing.  I convinced myself that the dust would disappear from notice upon the purchase of a new car. Lately however – no doubt as a consequence of having to endure the filth of winter once again – the immediacy of grime and grit have weighed upon me. Although my Petro-Canada car wash subscription includes both wash and vacuum, I have found the use of the open-air vacuums in the winter is a challenge. The hoses are long and heavy, often encrusted with debris; and the machines are not reliable. This does not mean that I tolerate the filth that collects at my feet.  Often I resort to removing the car mats, then managing the fragments of dirt by hand which, dear Reader, I trust you’ll agree with me is unfavourable.

Accordingly today’s expedition to Canadian Tire wasn’t entirely unforeseen. The ingredients of change have been brewing.

The new device has just alerted me with a green flashing light that the preliminary charging is complete. Tomorrow we shall transport the vacuum, its accessories and manual to the subterranean garage where it will hang in our storage unit until needed.  I have already fashioned a system for charging the device when required by suspending the device in a bag from the current car charging apparatus bolted to a pillar adjacent the parked car while plugging it into the 120v outlet near the 240v outlet used for the car itself. Scrupulously this is a feature I propose to undertake while tricycling (whereby the two requirements may be addressed in unison).

I look forward to gathering the dust and debris from the car on the next dry day. The manipulation promises to be simple.  The charging (when required) will be similarly convenient. Cleaning the device on occasion will be a moderate obstruction. I approach the cleaning without moral turpitude in this era of detachment.