Our vacuum cleaner kicked the bucket. It is a fate shared by every vacuum we have ever owned. Sean and I have lived together since 2001. We have had no less than 5 vacuum cleaners in that time. Each was purchased new. And after valiant service during tours of duty lasting less than 12 months, each has fallen with one explosive and dusty tubercular hack. I don’t know quite what the hell I do to them, but whatever it is, it appears to be fatal. I once found myself thinking that maybe the daffy, scantily clad saleswoman (girl, really) from Kirby might have been on to something as far as the hundreds and thousands of dollars she said you spend on other cleaners. I…