Why Oh Why?

We don't need frustration in our lives. Why oh why don't manufacturers make things that work without failure and difficulties built in? When my old metal sewing machine developed a problem, I turned it in for a new model that did a whole lot of things I didn't need. I wanted to fix things, not create them. It looks swish but if it falls off the table or a little bit of its plastic this and that breaks, it's over. My mother could take her old machine apart and put it back together. Why oh why are these machines still not made of metal and made to last? My washing machine broke down yesterday. Apparently, if you don't pander to its need for a "balanced load",  it kills itself. I can't see inside the thing when it's going because some designer decided the lid should lock. Bang, and now a service call that will cost half of what the machine is worth and likely he'll tell me I should get a new one. It's not that old. My mother had her mother's washer and she offered it to me. Not that I wanted it but it still worked.  I don't need ones like the latest, that access from the front on  hands and knees. Or ones that use two inches of water and pretend to get things clean. Why oh why? My glasses and sun glasses have a habit of losing their screws. Can't the screws be sealed in there so they won't sneak their way out. Seems simple enough. I don't want to use my polluting car to run down and have someone screw it back in, free service or not.  Why oh why? Then this morning I had to open a vitamin bottle and the lid was child proof, and also adult proof. You have to contort your hands painfully and push down and turn at the same time which children seem to have no problem with. When you are with arthritis in your pinkies, the opening contortion is well nigh impossible. Why oh why? Recently, I bought a steamer oven. It was foolish because how hard is it to plop a steamer basket into the wok and carry on. The new oven has lights and buttons to press and read outs and pictures of what it can do. After studying the manual written by someone from a place where English is exotic, I gave up and played with the display window. I learned the first lesson: how to make toast. The rest, unless I can find a translator, will have to wait. Why oh why? My cell phone has all the bells and whistles and I love it for various reasons, but to text on it with fingers that are not made to hit the miniscule letters, makes it scary. Some of the typos are insulting. My step father, Miron, got tired of being called Moron not to mention some of the other insults. I had a phone once, now out of fashion, that  had a stylus attached. No more like that. Why oh why? The younger set tackle everything with great ease and enthusiasm but that changes when they have an aging body that insists on its own rationale. Every single human gets to that stage eventually, and designers could make all of it easy to manipulate sans pain. Why oh why not?