SPOTLIGHT
The Last Laugh By Rory Winston
H
aving been brought up in a middle class Jewish neighborhood, to this day it’s difficult not to smile whenever I hear the words ‘dry cleaner.’ Throughout my adolescence the profession evoked a series of one-liners. Whether it was an elderly family member misquoting Myron Cohen’s “Mister, that ticket’s over ten years old… Okay, okay - it’ll be ready next Tuesday,” or a friend of my father recounting Woody Allen’s stand-up riff about aliens from the far reaches of our galaxy entrusting our planet with their laundry, dry cleaning had always been a staple punch line to an ever changing joke. By the time I was attending University, it was Jerry Seinfeld who revived the classic theme by sharing his discovery that ‘dry cleaning’ was an oxymoron: ‘dry and cleaning – how is this even possible? We know they’ve got liquid hidden somewhere on the premises.’ While the image I harbored about most professions had changed by the time I was an adult, dry cleaning remained immutable: although people who cooked exceptionally well or made a perfect pair of pants were no longer mothers or grandmothers but Michelin star chefs and haute couture designers, people who did dry cleaning – well, my imagination had hit an impasse. It was not until I discovered Madame Paulette that I realized that not only was dry cleaning an overlooked art but – when mastered and done to perfection – it was an art that elicited the same level of imagination, research, testing, creativity and obsessive passion that one relegates to the geniuses behind enduring works bearing the title ‘masterpiece.’ Although it may have been Lady Macbeth who ran about endlessly ranting “Out damn spot! Out I say,” it is none other than John Mahdessian who has succeeded at this demanding task even in places where other University accredited men have failed. Inventing techniques to suit un-
56 • Resident August 2014