Me mum-in-law has had a new toilet installed, what you might call a True Tall Toilet, a certifiable throne, what the builders of the Tower of Babel might have gone in for had their aims been more practical and less grandiose. (I would say had they been willing to start at the bottom but that would be Stoop Humor, wouldn't it?) For this is a toilet that rises to the skies, a veritable Pillar of Porcelain upon which if you happen to perch and the facility is in a prime location, you would be able to see two states away.
But that, of course, is not the point, nor are the toilets of Moms Landrith so located. The point is not the view. The point is ease of descent if you have back problems or other challenges to your mobility. Now, how practical this is in the case of my wife's mother I don't know, for I'm told -- but have not seen; but will accept the burden of seeing if required -- that she sort of perches on top of this Proud Tower, her little feet dangling. So I don't know if innovation was wisdom in this particular instance.
But I certainly enjoy the grandeur of using this new connivance. One gains perspective. The act becomes aloof. One feels somehow manly in new and startling ways, no matter what the actual intent and content of the moment is.
One feels somewhat elevated -- of course, literally but also figuratively -- though in the midst of low animal need and a general mild shame and ignominy.
One (dare I say it?) feels very nearly:
Texan.
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1 comment:
"The act becomes aloof."
indeed.
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