TOILETS AND OTHER HOUSEHOLD ESSENTIALS
If you thought I'd never stoop to publishing a post the equivalent of a Mel Brooks' fart site gag, well you're wrong and this post should prove it.
Before we left for New York we had one last dinner and a movie night that included all the essentials: Chinese takeout, paper plates and diet soda served on TV trays in front of the living room TV. Selecting something to watch continued to be a challenge. Things seemed so much easier before Roku and a never ending onslaught of streaming services. With so many choices it is almost impossible to get a majority vote on what we want to watch. The choice usually trends toward comedy or rom-com but this evening we went way afield with "Nomadland". Why we thought catching up on the buzz of an artsy independent film was the way to go I'm not sure but once committed there wasn't going to be any turning back. We all decided that anything with Francis McDormand in it would be a class act. In hindsight I think we might have miscalculated. We quickly discovered that living on the road out of your home on wheels was not necessarily a class act. I don't know that I will ever find the tutorial we received on the appropriate bucket size one needs to take along on the road relevant to any upcoming vacation I might be planning to take. And if the tutorial on bucket sizes wasn't enough Ms McDormand taking an explosive diarrheal dump in full view and with all the accompanying audio was enough to put me off of road trips for the rest of my life.
For some reason this then became a theme for my pandemicly isolated family. Right after the movie my sister sent me a link to a site filled with an additional list of bizarre bathrooms. Since my family now seems obsessed with their bathrooms I've decided I might as well go along with the flow.
Along with the traveling theme this one seemed the most ingenious for isolated outdoor traveling means to assist in taking care of business. It seems that all you need is a shovel and a dirt road. Although I'm a little spooked out by the neighboring car and tent in the background. I'm not sure how comfortable I'd be with the proximity of several pairs of inquisitive eyes.
Lack of privacy did seem to be an issue with many of the images I began finding while searching the net for more examples of non-traditional commodes. This one was a huge fail for me. I'm not sure what kind of stair traffic there might be here but without a door in sight for anyone to knock on I'm not sure if I'd want my hinnie that vulnerable to exposure to strangers or anyone else I might know.
I did find that sometimes an audience is required. Not sure if this throne is for the presenter or talent in some sort of show and tell. The only other option I could come up with is a classroom scenario where the dunce chair has been replaced with a much more humiliating one.
Europe has always had a more laissez-faire attitude toward personal hygiene. The first time I went to Europe was way back in my college days. I traveled on a shoestring staying in hostels. A fine meal was a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese and bottle of the cheapest local wine I could find. It also meant public bathrooms were frequently the only option for when nature called. I was a quick learner to the squat method. A hole in the floor and no privacy partitions was not an unusual experience to have to navigate. I quickly learned to stock up on free napkins at fast food restaurants since toilet paper was also a luxury. This station certainly showed the most ingenuity.
Other examples actually straddled the line between vintage intrigue and absolute camp. Even Madonna couldn't manufacture a pair of torpedo tits like the ones you'd have to step on here in order to make your way to either the tub or the sink, although I do love the pink and grey motif.
As a man this one scares me to death. First you'd have to be an exact height to even make this possible. Too short or too tall and you'd be leaving a yellow trail on the floor and the wall and probably on the person standing next to you. Talk about perfect aim. I have enough trouble hitting a regular toilet bowl without splashing a little outside my intended target.
The exhibitionist in me was something I was able to embrace in my youth. When I lived in California I had no embarrassment in parading butt naked on the nude beaches of Malibu. This exposure was fine when I was in my twenties but as the years passed so did my free spirit. As a mature adult living in New York with means to leave above the shared roommate college digs we purchased a New York loft on West 30th. The bathroom had a huge window in the shower that faced the front of the building. We were on the fifth floor so street traffic wasn't an issue but directly across from us was an office building with glass windows ringing each of its twelve floors. The show we put on started at eight sharp and lasted until the steam built up sufficiently blurring the view.
Bathtub exhibitionism is one thing. Toilet usage is another.
I have to admit that my favorite room in a home is the bathroom. If I had the money to build my fantasy home the bathroom would be the most important room in the house. I've designed it in my head a hundred times. This bathroom isn't exactly the one I constructed in my head one marble slab at a time but it comes close. Playing with someone else's money is not a bad profession to be in... Unfortunately building dreams for others doesn't give the satisfaction of being able to luxuriate in the final product but it comes close to being totally satisfied without the worry of having to find the plunger.
THE GALLERY
Viktoria and Rainer in Car, Snedes Landing, New York, 2011, Rodney Smith, photographer, Represented by Robert Klein Gallery
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