My mother has this toaster. For the first several years of her ownership of said toaster, I couldn't figure out why I felt melancholy every time I saw it. It's not just a regular old toaster. It's made to look like an old radio with tuning dials and buttons and a certain amount of retro-fitting that has absolutely nothing to do with toast.
Image courtesy of BedBathandBeyond.com
Over time, I figured it out. The toaster reminds me of a combination of two things.
Image courtesy of screencrush.com
|Radio (voiced by John Lovitz)|
Image courtesy of www.geocaching.com
Therefore, this toaster represents the SADDEST MOVIE OF MY ENTIRE CHILDHOOD:
The Brave Little Toaster.
I think I watched this movie 1,000 times when I was young. It wasn't until I was an adult that I realized that it made me feel awful about the universe every time I watched it in my childhood. This poor toaster just wants to get home to his "master", and is held back by roads and bridges and lakes and sewers and so many other icky things.
Sidenote: I really don't like the idea of the appliances calling their owner "Master". It makes my supposedly evolved soul hurt. I mean, if we're going to personify inanimate things, is it also okay to objectify them in such a way... even if they're objects? This is the kind of stuff that I think about, world.
Anyway, the poor toaster just wants some attention and to be able to live out the rest of its toaster days, you know, making toast and inciting civil disobedience. The universe wants to stop that. They're reunited in a happy if not scrappy reunion after many trials and tribulations that can only happen when you're young enough to suspend reality long enough to root for a toaster.
Those big, mean, shiny new appliances ain't got nothin' on the soul and integrity of the originals. They tried to have the old appliance disregarded as trash, but the good guys won.
The idea of fear and loneliness that the original appliances went through while trying to get back to "Master" always resonated with me as a kid. It always made me feel empty. It's an emptiness that comes back today when I think about the film.
And, no, I can't believe I just typed those last sentences either.
You go, toaster.
As always, it's hip to be square (and unnaturally attached to things that don't actually exist), kids!