Sunday, December 11, 2016

A Little Toilet Humor

The other day my wife, Jan decided we needed a new toilet seat. I'm not sure why. The old one worked just fine, no splinters or anything, but nonetheless, she didn't like it, so we're now sporting a new one. With my arthritic back and knees, I was thinking that if it hasn't already been invented, a hydraulic toilet seat would really be nice. When you were done with your business, as soon as you flushed, the hydraulic rams would automatically kick in and lift your behind right off the potty. No doubt it's the next billion dollar idea.
  I spent ten years at a farm here in Alaska where there were no indoor toilets. We all had some manner of honey bucket in our homes for use during the night. As I've mentioned before, I never really had to avail myself of those once we built our house out in the woods. My closest human neighbor was over a block away, and the squirrels, deer, martens, bears and other woodland creatures never lodged a complaint when I just stepped out onto the porch and let fly. It was quite liberating, not worrying about having to find a bathroom or needing to go and finding the only bathroom in the house occupied. We did all have outhouses, which,while they will get the job done, don't hold a candle to an indoor toilet. There are a number of stories from my time on the farm involving outhouses, potty barrels, slop jars, honey buckets and whatnot. I remember Liz telling us many years after the fact that her older sister Jen made her pick up the contents of the honey bucket after she slipped in the snow on her way out to dump it at the outhouse. With sisters like that, who needs brothers? Liz is also the child who was totally distressed after a trip to the outhouse. She came in crying and distraught one summer day because the flies were feasting there. There's nothing like feasting flies to put a damper on your day. The top picture is a cup shaped like a toilet that my number five daughter, Autumn, bought us. She seems to be infatuated with toilet related items. Because the cup is a little awkward to hold, we opted to use it to hold our toothbrushes. No doubt we would create quite a few interesting conversations if we used it to drink out of, but after all, we're not dogs, so we don't drink out of the toilet. Autumn also bought me a book with an all brown cover that addresses what your bowel movements mean, complete with drawings. By far the fellow sitting on the john, strapped in with a seat belt and with flames shooting out of the base like a rocket ship with the caption #3 was the most entertaining. It's not the kind of book you want to have out on the coffee table when you're hosting your pastor's family. Actually, it takes a special kind of person to enjoy that brand of humor. Of all places I think she bought it at the Anchorage airport bookstore.  The roll of toilet paper with the twine was a gift given to us on Friday by some guests at our open  house. I really like practical gifts.  If you want to be a blessing to someone, give them something they'll use- like toilet paper. Perhaps the giver had overheard a conversation I'd had with my daughter Jen. I had commented that every time Jen comes to visit, she almost always without fail stops in and uses our bathroom right before she leaves. Her house is less than a two minute drive away, but miraculously she always has to go right before leaving our house. I figure that down through the years, she's probably used the equivalent of a case of  Charmin. She mentioned that she had given me a six pack of Kirkland not long ago, in hopes perhaps of shutting me up. I had to point out though that it wasn't a six pack- she only had five rolls left in the package, and it runs in my mind that before  I left her house, she decided she needed another of the remaining rolls to get  her through the night. Amazing. In any event, I'm delighted that ol' Thomas Crapper had the foresight and ingenuity to design such a practical contraption that would allow us to remain inside and take care of business. No doubt an accomplishment worthy of a Nobel prize.


  1. I suppose it's telling that I have a feeling that Autumn's gift book would find a good home in my bathroom....Potty humor never seems to lose it's charm in the Elzinga household. I not-too-fondly remember the outhouses at the myriad Girl Scout camps I attended many years ago. Woe betide the girl who ticked off her tentmates - when that tent's turn to clean the outhouse came around, said pariah would be locked in the middle stall of the 3-holer for a sentence of no less than 10 minutes, with all lids at full mast! I hit the jaackpot the summer I was forced to take swimming - I hate to swim, but the shower had a flush toilet, and I figured out how to retrain my body clock for those two weeks to use that flush toilet for job. Yes, TMI, I know....:) Ah, a stroll down memory lane - thanks, Tom!

    1. Yes, I'm sure we could all spend a few moments speaking of various situations in the bathroom. Mark Ferguson and I once tried to flush his red sweater down our toilet. Don't know why we tried, it just seemed like a good idea at the time.