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You might enjoy this blog I wrote back in 2009 when we got a new toilet.
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Well, we have a new toilet. According to the City of L.A. Housing Code, all toilets have to be converted to a low-consumption model to conserve water.
To my other Fellow Americans who are also obliged to use these new fixtures, I have an indelicate question for you.
When you "do number two," does your toilet dispatch that material suitably? Or do you -- as we do -- have to flush three, sometimes four times? And still it doesn't always remove it all especially if, well, there is a large amount ... or if it's of non-solid constitution and goes all over the place (you know, Montezuma's Revenge).
What a mess.
Part of the problem is that the bowl does not fill up full enough with water. There's only a small puddle in the bottom area, I'd say about 4-5 cups maybe. The flushing action would probably be vigorous enough if there was enough water to flow all around the bowl and sweep up the material, but it doesn't work that way.
Curiously, the water only comes down from the front side of the bowl (the area of the bowl generally the least affected). I complained about this to the plumber when I saw the small pool of water in the bowl, but he said there wasn't anything he could do about it. That's just the way it works, he said.
Have you looked in the tank of your low-water toilet, if you have one? It's actually quite an ingenious new way to flush -- there's a open, rectangular plastic container in there that holds a gallon or so of water. When you press the flush lever, you rotate the container over, and the water splashes down into the bowl.
I am all for conservation of water, but I don't see where there's any real conservation if you have to flush multiple times. What happened to the idea of putting a couple of bricks down in the bottom of the tank? (Too simple I guess.) And then having to deal with cleaning up with a toilet brush and cleaner after every "heavy-duty" procedure. That also means more chemicals being dumped into the sewage systems on top of the unpleasant chore.
Just one more example of bureaucracy, er, crapping up everyone's lives. (I wonder if the low-flush toilet makers are in cahoots with the politicians that passed the ordinance.)
I -am- grateful to have indoor plumbing, even if it is a low-water toilet. It beats the little house in the back yard where you keep a stockpile of corn cobs and old Sears-Roebuck catalogs.
Say... That reminds me of a funny and true story.......
Back in 1960 my family moved to a rural area of Virginia in the Blue Ridge mountains, near Roanoke. My dad was the pastor of a small Baptist church in the agricultural community of Sontag. As with any minister, part of his duties included calling on shut-ins as well as going home with various families for after-church lunch.
One Sunday, my family all piled into the car after church and drove way out into the sticks to the house of one of the church members who had invited us to lunch. We had never visited this particular home before.
After having lunch and then going exploring for sweepers and finding none, I suddenly had to go to the bathroom ... very badly. I wandered down the hallway of the old country house and could not find the "smallest room in the house." I even crept upstairs and looked around up there - nothing.
I went to Daddy and stage-whispered, "I have to go to the bathroom but I can't find it." A sheepish expression crept across his face. Turning a little red, he said, "Can't you wait until we get home?"
"No! I really have to go!!"
So he led me through the living room where everyone was sitting and talking, down the hallway to the kitchen, through the kitchen, to the back door...???!
We went outside, crossed the back yard full of clucking chickens and to the edge of the woods where a dilapidated little wooden house with a sloped roof and a door with a crescent moon stood - a delicate and discreet distance from the main house.
Daddy said, "That's the bathroom."
My eyes bugged out with disbelief. "Their bathroom is outdoors??!"
"That's why I asked you if you could wait."
Well, I couldn't. I hurried across the yard and pulled on the outhouse door. It opened with a creak and a shaft of sunlight beamed inside, illuminating the wooden seating area ... with two holes cut out. (His and hers, I guess.) I really did NOT want to sit there, but Mother Nature won out over courage.
I tugged my pants down, gagging at the awful odor emanating from the holes. I was very relieved that it was too dark down in the holes to see what was in there.
I was just about to perch myself over one of the holes when something came scurrying out from the circular darkness. I lurched up and let out a loud screech when I saw a huge spider scampering across the wooden seat!
I went flying out the door and ran across the yard, my pants still down around my ankles. I yelled to Daddy, who was standing there waiting for me, "There's SPIDERS in there!"
He said, "Well get your pants up!"
Tugging at my pants, I whined that I still really had to go to the bathroom. He said, "Then you'll just have to go in there."
I have to say, I really, really, really hate spiders. Always have, always will. There was NO WAY that I was going to in there again! I pleaded between clenched teeth, "Can't I just go out in the woods?"
He said, "What do you have to do?"
"You know... number two."
He said, "No, you can't do that in the woods! Besides, there are probably snakes out there."
Great.
Daddy went back into the outhouse. He grimacing at the pungent fragrance and then looked around. He banged on the wooden seat with his foot. He came out and said, "Well go on. There aren't any more spiders."
I have to say, I have never made faster business of attending to "Mother Nature's Call" than I did that day. I dashed in and out as fast as I could.
When I went back inside, everyone was looking at me of course, wondering what all the commotion was about. They all chuckled over my predicament when Daddy told them I had encountered some of the local wildlife. The gruff old man of the house harrumphed, "Hehhh- spiders ain't nuthin. I went out there one day and there was a cottonmouth [poisonous snake] curled up in there a-sleepin.'"
When we got home, I more fully availed myself of the glistening indoor plumbing of our brand-new parsonage, still dumbfounded over the idea that there were actually people who had outdoor bathrooms!
And speaking of heavy-duty procedures, Happy Thanksgiving everyone (heavy-duty consumption yields heavy-duty post-meal procedures). We really do have a lot to be thankful for, don't we. Including indoor plumbing!
