Before I address Hiroshima, let’s return to toilets. My granddaughter’s camera crapped out in Hiroshima, so I promised to buy her a new one. We sauntered over to Big Camera (like Best Buy in the states), and she quickly found one to her liking. While waiting to pay, I noticed the techie toilet display on the wall next to the checkout. I know that many of you are not buying into this Japanese toilet thing, but take a look at this one wall.
After a quick Shinkansen ride to Kyoto, we checked into a marvelous boutique hotel – Mume. Once ensconced in the room, I walked into the bathroom to be greeted by a self-elevating toilet seat illuminated with an LCD landing light. Then I noticed the control panel on the wall next to the toilet. I will let you read the various settings, but consider the implications of “Posterior Cleansing.”
Let me begin with an apology. You did not expect an article on toilets, I know. But after Nagasaki and Hiroshima, I decided to interject some humor, some levity, before I address issues about which it is impossible to laugh.
The Japanese know high-tech. But of all of their technological contributions, nothing comes close to their bathrooms.
Here is my first example. I travel constantly, and probably spend 100 nights or more annually somewhere in some hotel working on some project. Among my pet peeves is the bathroom mirror that fogs after I shower and before I can shave. Invariably I am scrambling for a dry towel, then trying to wipe away the moisture before it reappears. Of course it fogs again as soon as I place razor on skin.
In Japan, they have developed a bathroom mirror that has a heating element in one corner that prevents the mirror from fogging. No matter how obscured the remainder of the mirror might be, this corner is always fog free. Score one for the Japanese.
And what about a bathtub that fills itself, then plays Jesu’ Joy of Man’s Desiring when ready for you to immerse? Score two for the Japanese.
The Millennium Falcon of Toilets
Yet nothing (NOTHING) approaches the panache of a Japanese toilet. This is the Millennium Falcon of toilets, Hans Solo’s throne. At home I only have to worry about pushing a handle down. In Japan, to use the toilet is as nerve-racking as programming a DVR. These toilets don’t just flush (normally my only concern). They heat, spray, rinse, dry, and buff. A Japanese toilet is a car wash for your derriere.
I would love to take one home, but I would have to completely rewire and replumb my house. Score three for the Japanese and their toilets. They have elevated a simple biological function to high-tech nirvana.
