Three Tustins, three repair lists
Most cities I work blur together into one age of housing. Tustin refuses to. It grew in distinct bursts, and because each part of town went up in a tight window, the appliances in a given neighborhood tend to age and fail together, which is a real gift to a technician who pays attention. When I turn off Main Street into Old Town, I'm driving past homes that predate the freeway, and the appliances inside them have usually been swapped piecemeal across several remodels. I'll find a ten-year-old French-door refrigerator squeezed into a 1928 kitchen footprint, a slide-in range fitted into cabinetry that was never quite built for it, and a dishwasher tucked under a counter that's seen four owners. Old Town calls are part repair, part detective work, because nothing in those kitchens is original and nothing quite matches.
Tustin Ranch is a different animal entirely. Those neighborhoods east of Jamboree and Tustin Ranch Road went up mostly through the late 1980s and the 1990s, built around the golf course and the master plan, and a lot of them still carry their original or first-replacement appliances. As a result I see a predictable wave of aging builder-grade ranges, freestanding refrigerators reaching the end of their second decade, and laundry pairs whose parts all tend to give up around the same age. Then there's the Legacy and the redeveloped MCAS Tustin land near the hangars, where the townhomes and apartments are barely a decade old and came stocked with matched modern suites young enough that owners expect them to be flawless. Tustin sits well inland in central Orange County, so I'm not fighting the salt-air corrosion I deal with out on the Newport and Huntington coast. What I battle here instead is the region's hard, mineral-heavy water, which quietly scales up ice makers, dishwasher spray arms, and water inlet valves no matter which of the three Tustins I'm standing in.