An Open Letter to My Dishwasher

Dear Dishwasher, Your name is not a mere description. It is a mandate, a call to action. It is your _raison d'être_. However, it has recently come to my attention that, of a sudden, you are no longer living up to the expectation formed by this noble appellation. Plates and bowls and silverware that might once have emerged from a mere "light wash" now remain less than clean after two or more cycles through you. I find this distressing, as, indeed, I hope you do as well. Not to put to fine a point on this discourse, but allow me to point out that you are no longer young. Technology has not stood still in the years since you were made. Your younger brethren are, dollar for dollar, pound for pound, _better_ than you are. So please do not think that -- should you force your own retirement -- that your service will be regarded with the warm glow of nostalgia for better days now passed. I would appreciate it if you would get over whatever strange funk lately claims you, and do your job. Fulfill your mission. Thanks, Your Owner