The Northwest Voice

If you watch much television you get the impression that the entire nation is addicted to something: drugs, food, gambling, the Internet — even sex and shopping. I have to admit I’m as afflicted as the next person — I’m a major caffeine addict. And I don’t discriminate: cokes, coffee, tea, anything to give me that charge.

Honestly, though, I’m not concerned about my own addiction. I’ve stopped before and I can do it again. Actually, I’m concerned for my wife, Debbie. I’ve never seen her particular addiction listed anywhere, because Debbie is addicted to purchasing dishes. That’s right, dishes — from china to stoneware, she can’t ignore the call of a clearance sale.

If an addiction is characterized by a loss of control, then Debbie’s “plate-a-holism ” is a true addiction. To better illustrate my point, I need to tell you about the past five years in our household.

I first noticed Debbie had a problem when she decided that the multi-colored "Fiesta" that we’d used from 2000 to 2002 had to go. Yes, in the summer of 2002 I was shocked to find those vintage dishes being replaced by a new trend: mix-and-match china. I guess the adventure of buying single plates is a lot like Easter, but I was never behind that trend.

Luckily, the good old mix and match only lasted until the fall of 2002, and it was replaced by all-white Corelle — sturdy, dependable, neutral.

Good choice? Well, apparently not. The Corelle had a very short run because in the spring of 2003 it was replaced by botanical-print dishes. Good old botanical. It lasted one complete year, well into 2004. I’d just about gotten used to it, but all good things must come to an end. In April of 2005, botanical had to bow out to a set of Coca Cola dishes. Now, I liked the look and logo on the dishes, but it had the shortest life of all. Poor Coca Cola only lasted three months because Debbie inherited a floral set of dishes from her mother that “reminded her of home.” I thought I was home free.

Now, I’d hoped sentiment would have cemented that relationship, but I was wrong again. Just two weeks ago, what began as an innocent enough mall walk brought us to the Gottschalk’s housewares department. Before I knew it, we were the proud owners of a new service for 12 of elegant white china. The argument was that “anything goes with white.” Wait a minute; hadn’t we said that of the Corelle in 2002? I’ve never seen so many dishes. I’m hoping that owning the mother of all china sets will appease her.

           
So, where so many fail at relationships, Debbie has failed in attachments to china. Except, of course for the blue willow, which only comes out at Thanksgiving, and the Christmas set, which is out for only two weeks. What can I do? While our society offers nicotine patches, diet pills, and even the Betty Ford Center, where is the help for the plate-a-holic? Come on now, if 50 million Americans can quit smoking, surely something can keep her from buying dishes.

But I guess I should at least be thankful that she doesn’t want to change spouses as often as the set of dishes, or I’d have been boxed up and sent to Goodwill in 1975.

 
I am presently looking for a support group for spouses.