The Throne

   

  Last weekend I took my grandson Dante' to Home Depot to buy some toilets. We left the store with not one, not two, but three "comfort" toilets. I should point out that Dante' is a bit of an expert when it comes to toilets. You would think that I would be since I've had so much more experience using them down through the years. However, he's worked as a plumber, so I trust his knowledge. I once had a plumber tell me that there were only two things you needed to know in order to be plumber- crap flows down hill and payday is Friday. I have a feeling he was over simplifying the job, otherwise more of us would be making the big bucks that plumbers make.

There was nothing wrong with the toilets that we had, they were just too short. After my knee surgery, I had a toilet riser that I borrowed from a charity that carries all manner of things needed for folks who have had surgery, wheelchairs, walkers, toilet risers, canes, shower seats and I don't know what all else. Anyway, the comfort toilets are like three inches higher than the regular ones, and are much more pleasant to sit on. If I'd been thinking, I might have just left the toilet we had in the bathroom Jan utilizes the most. I believe she might be having a hard time with connecting to the floor with this new john. As it is, I think her feet just touch the floor. If she doesn't shrink any more as she ages, it might be OK.

When I was in Home Depot, I was amazed to see the vast selection of toilets available. They took up a whole aisle in the back of the store. Apparently there is three different sizes, the regular one, the next size up is like 1 1/2 inches higher and then the one we bought. They all have something different to set them apart. Aside from the height, the ones we purchased mentioned that you could flush seven billiard balls down it at once. I'm not sure why anyone would want to flush any billiard balls down the toilet, much less seven. Maybe if you were  a sore loser and in a fit of rage you grabbed seven off the pool table and tossed them in the commode, you would be glad you had this particular brand.

I remember my childhood friend and neighbor, Marc Ferguson visiting with his mother years ago. I think we might have been three of four. For some unknown reason we decided to try to flush his little red sweater down the toilet. Toilets are items of fascination to kids. The fact that you can get rid of something so easily is quite a novel idea. I don't think Marc had any particular animosity directed at the sweater, we just wanted to see if it would go down. I guess it didn't, I can't recall exactly.

When I think back to my childhood, I'm surprised that I didn't pursue a career in science. After all, I experimented with the sweater vs toilet project, the shooting an arrow straight up into the air until it disappears trial, the gasoline on the paintbrush vs the bonfire project, the ability of hardware cloth to protect a garage window vs a twelve pound rock research, and of course I tested my ankle strength by walking several blocks on ice skates one winter day in Ohio when I couldn't untie my frozen shoe strings with my equally frozen fingers. Had I the forethought to project my conclusions onto paper, I might be a noted scientist. As it is, I guess the most outstanding conclusion is that I survived childhood, against all odds.  

Speaking of toilets, I have to say, I'm glad that my house has three of them. Regardless of where I am, there is always one close by. I know how desperate it can be when the urge to go strikes, so if you're in the neighborhood, and need to go, drop in. As long as you don't have more than seven billiard balls to deposit, you're good to go.