A Jeweled Throne
It looks a lot like our old toilet, which is the point. It is our old toilet.
It was leaking for a while, despite my attempts to stop it by replacing the ball and bending the rod. Finally, we had the Joe the plumber come by, and he delivered the news sourly: Forget about fixing it. Need a new toilet.
We could get a two piece, installed, for less than $400, he said. And then he launched into an extremely detailed account of flush rates, and how much money we'd save by going to one of these new, 'green' models. I was drifting in and out as he talked, thinking that my wife had just redone the floor with stick tiles she'd spent hours carpentering, and how she wouldn't exactly love replacing her low-riding teal toilet with a tall white one. We have a teal wash basin, too.
Joe the plumber was still yakking, how they test-flush with some sort of soybean media, and I was thinking how I've never been more proud to work in the media, and then the last thing Joe said grabbed my attention.
If I wanted to special-order the parts for my 1957 toilet, which he did not recommend, I would wind up paying more than $500, and he couldn't even guarantee the work.
Which is of course what my wife and I went with.
The Internet will let you find anything, even "a toilet in the tradition of Al Bundy's 'Ferguson' without the noise!"
That's what they were saying about my baby on EBay. I called the company in Chicago handling replacement parts for my Case Model 1000 one-piece - the "Cadillac of its day!" About $300 for the parts. You paid extra for the ad copy, I'm sure - words like "the toilet known for its style and quiet efficiency" and "a rare and valuable find," "a gem." Instead I ordered it cheaper from a place in Knoxville.
Took about two weeks for Joe to work us back into his schedule, the leaking water lifting bills one at a time from of my wallet as we waited. He came by yesterday. I was at work. My wife was home, painting the porch. Had to listen to him complain for about three hours. The parts were bent. "Look at this! Where'd you get these parts," he'd ask accusingly. "No one wants to work on these toilets." He should have paid us to listen to him.
Total cost, with parts and labor: just over $600. It's the same toilet - with shiny brass innards that will have to last another half century. I will no longer complain about military spending. Can I write my toilet off now?
When I visited the Inquirer's on-line sports page today, I clicked a link to your blog entry titled "The 'Fire Charlie' chorus rises." However, the link took me to your blog that discussed the replacement of an old toilet with a new toilet. Given the Phillies' track record with skippers, I think this qualifies as irony.
You know, I think I read something recently about a guy who came up with a new formula for toilet flush-testing material. The story was actually fascinating...the New Yorker maybe?
Let's hear it for teal fixtures! My stove and kitchen counter tops are a nice, 1965 teal. The original fridge and washer/dryer unit were also teal, but after about 30 years, they gave up, and appliances just don't come in teal the way they used to.