Category ►►► Miscellany & One-Shots

November 3, 2006

Stupid, Meaningless Observation

Hatched by Dafydd

Am I the only weirdo who has noticed that two of the "endangered" Republican senators -- who are, in fact, right next to each other on RCP's Elections Page -- are Burns & Allen?

Too bad there's no member of the House named Abbott; we already have a Rep. Jerry Costello (D-IL, 80%).

And God knows, we have plenty enough Democrats who could be called "the Marx brothers!"

Hatched by Dafydd on this day, November 3, 2006, at the time of 1:23 AM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

August 4, 2006

Travelblogging: The Ingrate American Bathtub

Hatched by Dafydd

I hate, loathe, despise, and abominate hotel shower curtains. I don't mean the nice, heavy kind you can buy in Bed, Bath & Beyond that hang like bullet-proof armor and come with their own nylon webbing. I mean the cheap-jack, gauzy curtain that is more like a long sheet of wax paper.

As the shower heats up -- assuming it does -- it heats the surrounding air, of course. The air expands, causing a pressure differential between the inside and outside of the shower stall. This causes the fluttery curtain to grope inward, like a giant, clutching hand, to wrap the body within like an Egyptian mummy.

It's bad enough in the morning, when I'm generally in a hurry. But it's intolerable at night, giving me nightmares of being suffocated by a soggy but intelligent winding sheet -- vast, cool, and unsympathetic.

I much prefer a bath before bed; but a bath is precisely what our hotel -- which shall remain unnamed in this piece for liability purposes -- does not have.

The reason for the lack is obvious; there is so little room in the bathrooms of the Milford Plaza Hotel (700 8th Ave) that it would make more sense to put the bathroom inside the bathtub than the more normal arrangement. In fact, I doubt a proper bathtub could even be fitted inside the entire hotel room, here at the Milford Plaza (also 270 W. 45th St -- two addresses, one cramped location).

Worse, the shower has a special safety feature that automatically cuts off the hot water whenever the temperature hits 80° Fahrenheit; this is for my protection and is installed by, I rib you not, "www.antiscald.com".

So what would a "proper bathtub" actually look like? We came close with our hotel in Niagara Falls, the name of which I will be happy to tell you: it was easily big enough for two, contained Jacuzzi jets, and was properly sloped. But even there, I have complaints. Oy, have I got complaints!

Bathing was a public affair for thousands of years, stretching all the way back to Bronze-Age India (and possibly to the pre-Cambrian). The Romans bathed in large public buildings in water heated by coal ovens on a lowered floor. The Celts bathed in hot water if they happened to find a thermal vent but normally luxuriated in icy rivers and frozen lakes. The Dark-Age English did not bathe at all; the modern-age French still don't.

Bathtubs in America are still by and large modeled after the early "clawfoot" tubs of the nineteenth century, despite the easy ability to vacuum-form plastic into pretty much any shape you can envision: modern tubs are still hard, simulating the porcelain-coated cast-iron tubs of your great-great-(great?)-grandparents' day; you still must lie rigidly on your back, as if in a coffin; the water level is still kept so low (by use of a spill drain) that you must choose between immersing your legs or, by scrunching down and poking them out of the water, your chest.

One modern innovation serves to make the experience even less pleasant: frequently, the back of the tub stands at a 90° angle to the bottom, meaning that if you lie back, as perforce you must, either your scapulae must rest with nearly your entire bodyweight against the sharp edge of the tub... or else you must have the neck of a particularly limber heron, so you can fold it at right angles to the lower part of your spine.

I have long thought that the design of this torture device was deliberate: our Victorian ancestors considered any activity that required disrobing to be disreputable to the point of sinfulness, something decent people avoided -- or at least did as little of as possible while still perpetuating the species. In the case of bathing, I am convinced the tub was designed for maximal discomfort, thereby limiting the time you might spend in such sloth and indolence, thinking lustful thoughts (good heavens) about scrubbing your paramour's back.

The Japanese have a different approach. To them, a bathtub is primarily a meeting room for clients. Thus, they bathe in groups, sit up straight, and wear their glasses. In most public baths in Japan, contrary to the lascivious thoughts of Westerners, men and women are separated -- though in some onsen (resorts) built around a hot springs, there is mixed-sex bathing.

The Japanese home tub is big enough for at least two, and you can fully immerse yourself. Alas, it too has its problems of poor design, not least of which is that you must bathe sitting up rigidly like a soldier. Also, the Japanese tub is not used for cleaning yourself; you are supposed to do that before entering or be considered an absolute boor. So no bubble bath.

American hot tubs (a.k.a. Jacuzzis, though that's a trademarked term) come closer to the mark: they allow you to recline while still fully immersing yourself, and they have a remarkable innovation that they copied from the Japanese: you can set the water temperature via thermostat, and the tub will maintain that setting.

But it's very difficult to find a hot tub small enough to be used in an ordinary bathroom -- and especially in a mini-sized bathroom, such as we have at home (or the microscopic bathrooms found at the Milford Plaza, 212.869.3600, which also has a very sporatic supply of water in the pipes and no coffee anywhere on the premises, though there are eleven Starbucks within a two-block radius, including one inside a McDonalds). Besides, most hot tubs are made of rigid acrylic thermoforming and thus as hard as galvanized steel.

I don't mind occasionally bathing in a crowd (I am a native Californian); but most of the time I really prefer solitude, so I can lie back and meditate upon equal justice for all and other aspects of Judeo-Christian civilization.

So to end a long story before it goes totally off the rails and turns into a document the side of the Constitution of the United States, forcing readers to gnaw their own legs off to escape, let me set forth the ideal bathtub:

It must allow for reclining, while you contemplate all that jazz about Judeo-Christian civilization, but also be deep enough to sit up straight when some accidental brilliance occurs and you want to get it down quickly;

It must be deep enough for complete immersion, right up to your chinny-chin-chin;

It must be temperature regulated, so you can stay as long as you like without contracting hypothermia and having to crawl into a pizza oven to recover;

It should be small enough not to seem cavernous for one, like being the only fellow in an auditorium -- but also large enough for two (just in case);

The material must be soft and comfortable for long stays (this also applies to a proper toilet seat);

The back must slope gently up to an adjustable neck support, also cushioned;

The tub must be set up to allow bubble bath (for the ladies) and shaving (for both sexes) without ruining the mechanism and requiring a house call by the plumber; ideally, a fog-free mirror should be included for shaving or applying makeup;

It should, of course, come in colors everywhere you comb your hair, like a rainbow...

...And include a phone jack and high-speed dataport;

Shower facilities should probablly be included, since the tub will obviously be larger than a traditional one, taking up the room that could be used for a separate shower stall -- with or without a soggy but intelligent winding sheet -- vast, cool, and unsympathetic.

It's my understanding that each of these can be done with off-the-shelf technology; no advanced government research should be necessary, no taxpayer money whatsoever. Only the will lacks.

Arise and liberate yourselves from the Victorian straightjacket! Let us rescue the Great American Bathtub and turn it into an experience you'll want to repeat again and again, multiple times a day. The noses of the world will thank us.

Well, except for the French.

Hatched by Dafydd on this day, August 4, 2006, at the time of 6:45 AM | Comments (13) | TrackBack

November 13, 2005

Elvish... hm....

Hatched by Dafydd

Another one of these cheesy personality tests, this one asking to which race of Middle Earth you belong.

My result:

Elvish

To which race of Middle Earth do you belong?
brought to you by Quizilla

All right; but I don't know whether I answered honestly, or whether I subconsciously answered in the (obvious) way that would result in a "score" of Elvish!

Sachi came out as Numenorean, just like Hugh Hewitt (from whom I stole the link to the test; a tip of a Numenorean helm):