The switch that controls the left rear burner on our KitchenAid Architect Series II electric range costs $131.69. I know this because I managed to break said switch last night. I carelessly grabbed for a heavy wood cutting board, swinging it at just the right speed and arc of movement so that it hit the knob with sufficient force to snap the end of the switch off inside the knob. After much online effort, I found the part necessary to repair the range. I did not, though, find information about how to remove and replace the broken part. I suppose I’ll just have to monkey with the range, taking it apart bit by bit until I can remove the front panel so I can get behind the switch. Two screws hidden behind the knob suggest it will be easy to remove the switch, but first I must be able to get behind the panel. Alternatively, I could hire someone else to do the exploratory work. But I figure my $131.69 mistake should be enough of an investment, without paying someone $80 an hour to learn the workings of my range.
While searching for the replacement part, I discovered all sorts of other replacement parts for the range. Though I did no calculations, my guess is that I could replace all replaceable parts of the range and the oven below it at a cost of roughly $231,000. That being the case, I think we got an incredibly good deal when we bought this house. Most of the purchase price went toward buying the range. The rest of the house was thrown in for just a few thousand dollars more. So, it occurs to me that, once I’ve repaired the range, I might just sell it at a significantly discounted price—say $130,000—and buy a replacement range for considerably less. Even if I went upscale, I doubt I’d need to spend more than $5,000. So, I’d put $125,000 in my pocket. Considering the selling price of comparable homes in the area, I could then offer the house for sale at a price that would guarantee multiple offers. I’d come out ahead by well over $100,000, which we could use to purchase a smaller home here and another one in a friendlier summer climate.
Now that I know the secret to house prices, I think I’ll start flipping houses nearby. I’ll just break the knobs off their stoves, repair them, sell the ranges at a staggering profit, buy replacements, then sell the houses at steep discounts. In no time, I’ll be awash in money with which to buy seasonal homes worldwide. With the flood of money, I’ll easily be able to buy first class airline tickets to visit my homes in Croatia, Italy, France, Bolivia, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and other such places. I’ll have ample cash to spend time at my summer homes in Nova Scotia and British Columbia. Once I’ve proven the concept, I’ll offer free, limited-seating seminars in cities worldwide, describing in overview style what I’ve done. For specific details of how the process works, seminar participants can buy sure-fire money-making kits with step-by-step instructions for the low, low price of $5,000 per kit. Hundreds of thousands of people will line up to buy my remarkable kits (cash only, please, no checks or credit cards). After I’ve sold 1,000,000 kits, I’ll retire in luxury. But, because I will not want to be called greedy, I will become a philanthropist, donating 75% of my money toward peace and ending world hunger. Who knew one simple, careless motion with a heavy cutting board could lead to such a fairy tale ending?