OK, then Todd,
Let's have some pictures of it! Shots of the machine, control panel, inside the tub, agitator, filter pan, lid instructions, anything else will be appreciated! Hotpoints are nifty machines. I'd especially be interested in pictures of the agitator cap and all the inside guts of the agitator that create the Fountain Filter.
They never made the top-10 in Consumer's Reports during the last ten years at least of their production, but I would say they were probably good machines to own for people, like my maternal Grandmother, who washed lots of delicate things like women's clothing. I think they were weak at the "heavily soiled" stuff and sand disposal compared to Norges, Filter-flo's and Whirlmores, but for ordinary, not so soiled stuff they did the job. I remember watching my Aunt Sona's machine(which was similar to the one in the ad above); the action was graceful and quiet--almost hypnotic compared to the rough and crunchy activation in our Filter-flo (think, "Where Cathy adores a minuet, the Ballet Russe, and Crepes Suzette, while Patty's off on Rock and Roll a hot dog makes her lose control..."). Even the burpolation from the "Fountain-Filter" was a gentle pulse especially compared to the regurgitated spew from the Norge burpalator. I've always thought these machines were particularly fascinating; beautiful industrial design if not the best engineering. The dryers were clumsy and oafish. Thirty-one inches of nothing to crow about. I've never owned one, but from looking at them it looks like they were using a very outdated design from the Fifties minus their obsolete version of a "Filtrator" well into the late Sixties until somebody in the center office said, "screw it--let's just use the GE design for the guts, pop our control panel on top and call it a day".
Kills me to remember this but there was an old family-run lumber yard in Kingston NY that I used to go to with my Father on the weekends called "Miron Lumber" in the very late Sixties and very early Seventies. They had an exclusive Hotpoint dealership for the area with a big selection of washers and dryers on the showroom floor. My Father was never what anyone would call "patient" or "tolerant" of his son's fascination with what he considered womens' appliances so I only got quick looks until I was screamed at to come help him load 2 x 4's into the back of our station wagon to learn how to be a manly man like him (he fancied himself a carpenter but he sucked at it but everyone in the family except my princess bitch sister had to "help him play").
A@@hole.
Rest in peace but you were an a@@hole back then. And as it turns out your manly gun collection wasn't worth sh*t.
BITTER! Table for one!
... a very long day.
