DISCLAIMER: Pardon the bad puns. As I write this stream-(pun #1)-of-consciousness nonsense about, of all things in this world, the Motion-Sensor Flush, I realize that practically every word I use will connote something bathroom-related. If I wanted to be intelligently witty, I’d make better use of this phenomenon and lay booty-traps for the reading audience (which would probably only consist of myself) to pick out the puns themselves, but the puns have a life of their own, so I will let them roam freely….
Truly, I am starting this — blog? — (n.b.: what is a blog but a “bog” with an “l” thrown in for luck? Muse on that one) with the lowest-of-the-low here, and I want to believe that this, er, discourse (or something) represents the first rung on the ladder that goes from the flat-out bottom (pun, unintentional but you see what I mean) to the top. What the “top” is, I have no idea. Could just be the cardboard tiles at the top of a public restroom, or it could be a Pulitzer Prize for something obscure, like inanity (which is one “s” away from insanity, if you haven’t noticed). Whatever the case, I really am not trying to be intentionally low here in subject matter; in fact, in some ways, these thoughts on the Motion-Sensor Flush come tumbling out of me because the topic has indeed made me THINK — or, at least, it has made me think of something other than increasingly inscrutable urban traffic or equally increasingly inscrutable world politics, which may be linked, and — well, you see why it’s nice to think of something else….
So, let’s get to it. In my rumination about this invention, I have imagined some entrepreneur, engineer, or clever-devil sitting around (ahem) and having a germ (ahem ahem) of an idea. This person wants to make some money but also contribute to the greater good of life-in-the-modern-world. In order to maximize profits, the engineer, clever-devil, or whoever has decided to go universal: what do all humans have in common? Well, there you go. We all need to use the toilet. And we all, at varying degrees, need to use it regularly.
Clever-devil (I’ve decided on this moniker) shares something with me. C-D has had to visit public restrooms quite a lot throughout his/her life. Public restrooms in themselves tell a lot of stories, but I will not start to plumb (ahem) that idea here. C-D just knows that public restrooms present problems on occasion. One of those problems is, simply, the flush-handle. If C-D’s mind bears something in common with mine on this topic, the flush-handle has an entire personality of its own. Let’s forget the phallic images and the male-predominant associations one can make with the handle. Just this once, let’s consider what the flush handle is. It’s a HANDle — that’s right, it’s HANDLED by many, many hands, or (in my case) shod feet, or (depending on what transpires in that cubicle) hips or elbows, lots of body parts. The handle’s mechanics actually endow the flusher with a kind of power — a control over the cleansing of waste into its proper place, the fantastic sewer that hopefully will never clog or overflow.
However, the handle does come equipped with problems, as I implied before. I’ll enumerate a few of them: 1) Its location, a public restroom, is in itself problematic; 2) It’s had its share of hard-knocks, from floppy to firm handshakes, to martial-arts kicks (my method), to all kinds of bodily exposure; 3) In certain cases, it can receive, albeit unwittingly, some form of backsplash that I won’t detail here, but you get the idea; 4) It’s usually metal so susceptible to rust which kind of — call me skittish — makes me raise an eyebrow. You know: hm, rust. Not really into rust.
So, the handle, yes — powerful but, just perhaps, deadly. That’s why I attack my handles with a from-a-distance kick, and I can adjust my kick on any handle (whether it needs to be held up or down to get the waste outta there) to get the job done. And despite the many problems inherent in the handle, one other of its characteristics goes into the pro-handle column: the toilet handle is a standard on most home receptacles; almost all of us encounter it as we toilet-train and live with it day-in, day-out, for years. It’s an old friend. In some cases, it’s a panacea: “Just jiggle the handle!” has become a catchphrase for “easy (and satisfactory) fix.” Many of us leave home before outings with a brush-and-flush; i.e., a quick brush of the teeth and a trip to the toilet, both involving tangible, hand-held objects, and both leaving us feeling that much cleaner for the effort….
C-D, however, has looked at the con-anse angles, partly enumerated above, and has paused to think about those issues. C-D also knows, from experience, that some people forget the handle’s role in public-restroom usage altogether. C-D has headed for the public restroom and gingerly pushed on a cubicle door as if the enemy awaits behind it, checking the basin for the green light or the fast flight. C-D considers the trepidation one feels upon entering any public restroom, and C-D realizes that often the handle has something to do with that creepy-crawly fear.
Fast forward through however long it took from the germ of that idea — how to, er, streamline the flushing process and, er, eliminate some of the cowering dread one feels upon heading for the public restroom — to the actual invention and installation of the Motion-Sensor Flush. Ah, the MSF!
C-D (or its marketers) then got smart and decided where best to test the new product: how about some of the most high-traffic, hurried public restrooms worldwide? Those would be in airports. I first encountered the MSF in an airport; I think most public consciousness associates the MSF with, indeed, airports. Not a bad idea to start the experiment there. Folks are often in great need to find a toilet in the airport; and folks are often in a great hurry in the airport. And let’s not forget folks laden with carry-on luggage that somehow fits the carry-on criteria but for the life of me looks gargantuan and somewhat irritating. But that’s an aside. In short, people in airports gotta go, gotta run, and they got stuff to keep organized. Eliminating the turn-around-and-flush process sounds like a plus.
I am supposing the airport MSF has indeed been deemed a plus. No one I know has complained about the auto-flush in the airports. However, I am guessing that the lack of questioning or griping about the airport MSFs has more to do with the pressing priority of getting to one’s destination over the quick stop in the concourse restroom.
Assuming, therefore, that the airport MSF is a huge success, it appears to me that C-D and its marketers have appealed to lower-traffic restrooms in the name of modernization and sleek upgrades. And to me, this broadening of the MSF function provides the seat of the problem.
Not all MSFs are alike. Like the handle, they, too, have personalities. Some MSFs are overly polite. They don’t really pick up on the motion going on in front of them in any kind of timely manner. In fact, they almost appear to be “out of order” with no warning sign. I’ve encountered an MSF in a doctor’s office that simply appears defunct. I’ve finished my “business” (kind of hate that phrase, but sometimes the euphemism just fits) in the cubicle, and I’m all dressed up with places to go, and no action coming from the basin. My toilet paper and other business remain dormant in the once-clear water. After a couple of earnest flaps of my hand in front of the sensor, with no effect, I start to panic. I start to jump up-and-down in front of the sensor; I sashay left-to-right; I turn to my car keys hanging on the hook and ask them for help, as if they have some godlike relationship with all things mechanical; then I decide I’ll try reverse psychology and say to the basin, “Fine, forget it, don’t work.” I open the door and start to walk out, and then, flooded with relief, I hear the polite whoosh of the MSF coming to life. I’ve gotten now to the point where, when using that particular public restroom, I do all the tricks, finally ending with reverse psychology, as a kind of ritual to get the thing to kick into gear. I long for the handle at those times.
Sure, some MSFs are overly polite; on the opposite end of the spectrum, some are overly achieving. For example, I have a favorite bookstore which has a spiffy upgraded public restroom. Upon entering the restroom, all seems to be well, until events begin to unfold in the cubicle. The MSF is so eager to please that it flushes at any detection of movement. As bottom-level as this topic may be, I don’t want to give too graphic details, yet some details are in order. I am not content with sitting on the toilet without proper protection. Toilet covers or the time-tested strips of toilet paper are de rigeur for covering the seat when I use a public toilet. No compromises. Not even if the situation is urgent: the paper goes down. However, the overly achieving MSF detects the preparations and decides the swooshing hour has come. Before I can even sit down, the flush is in full-thrust. And damned if I am going to sit on it in that moment of glory. I have to let Niagara do its cascade, or otherwise I should just sit down naked on the Bellagio fountain. Uh-uh. Whether the toilet water is fresh or not (and this is a whole other topic), it is water that is in the TOILET. And I pretty much do not like having any residual public-toilet anything coming into contact with my backside. So, as mentioned, I have to give the flush its moment, and start again, hoping my paper stays in place while I act quickly to take a seat…..Or, I have another option, which I have started to employ lately. I treat this eager MSF with respect. I put down my paper tenderly, from the right-hand side of the cubicle, flattening myself on the right-hand-side of the stall, just to stay out of the eye of the sensor. If all goes well, and I’ve behaved with enough gentility, I can make a quick maneuver to the seat without getting doused….Truly, I appreciate the overly achieving MSF’s intentions, but they border on a mixture of, well, butt-kissing and passive-aggressive anger.
Analyze me for my personifications here if you will, but the facts are facts: I have to adapt my public-restroom approach to fit the vagaries of the individual sensitivities of the MSFs I encounter.
Which brings me back to the handle. The handle I handle with a routine that has grown familiar and satisfying. A swift kick, after my “business” has concluded, and if the plumbing is all connected, etc. (another whole different story), there is no question as to how I go about approaching my bathroom experience. In sum, I am casting my vote, in this era when votes are extremely important, for the handle. However, I realize people’s experiences and tastes vary, so I have no beef for the pro-MSF side. None at all. We can still be friends, I promise.
