Thursday, July 28, 2005
YOUR TAX DOLLARS AT WORK
If you own a house that was built after 1995, you know about it. If you own a house built before 1950 and nothing has been remodeled, you don't have a clue.
"Clue about what?" you ask. The 1.6 gallon toilet our government has decided will be the only way to flush. That linked article reviews the development of family water conservation in the little room we don't talk about--in case you want the facts.
The problems look so benign in print.
Right now I'm only interested in the anecdote. We have recently had the bathrooms remodeled which meant that the new toilets were installed. The old plumbing did need to be replaced. It was installed in the early 50s and had seen too much use. The last family to own this house had four kids, and we knew when we bought it that bathroom remodeling was on the agenda. That was 28 years ago. I won't bore you with the reasons why it took 28 years.
Anyway...
We quickly discovered that there are certain times when double flushing is mandated. Clear goes down just fine. Yellow does as well. White islands may or may not. Brown stuff....You get the picture. Fortunately there are two of these in our house so that when one is filled to the rim the other is usually working. Most of the time after a few hours have passed the water will return to normal level and they can be flushed, so the best thing to do is shut the door and hang an "out of order sign". That's what I did yesterday.
About ten o'clock last night, I figured the thing was over its snit and flushed it. Wrong. The water rose...and rose...and rose to the edge of the bowl then flowed over the sides like a cascading park fountain.
I was standing there in my pajamas and bare feet watching in shock as this took place, then sprinted into action grabbing the bathroom rug, only to discover that the rug is made of rather non-absorbent material.
About now my husband who was already reading in bed got up to see what was going on. And he did what husbands do when something goes wrong. Looked around for someone to blame and saw me.
I went to the basement for the bucket of water and lots of rags leaving a trail of wet footprints down the stairs. After cleaning it up and gathering up the sopping mess I took it down to the basement, dripping water from the rug all the way. Down there I found out why it's a bad idea to put a fountain in the bathroom. The water is not contained once it escapes from the main reservoir. It flows between the floor boards and the baseboard, seeking the lower level, and cascading over everything stored below, doubling the size of the mess. About the time I noticed this my feet found the cold wet concrete and decided they were having nothing to do with it. Contemplating the world from a sitting position with soaking wet pajamas, I thought about all of the things I could do to the man who invented the 1.6 gallon flush toilet. It's a good thing he wasn't here.
This morning I have a badly bruised elbow and arm. (That's what hit the concrete next when the feet departed!) I've just satisfied my husband's request to call a local hardware store to find out where to get a normal toilet (In Canada), and I've read the article about our brilliant representatives in Washington who have known about this little problem since 1995 and done nothing about it.
And they wonder why there are revolutions!
