The Tin Man, the Scarecrow, the Cowardly Lion, the various witches, the Wizard and, of course, Dorothy and her little terrier Toto – they were the principle characters in the original movie of “The Wizard of Oz” starring Judy Garland. It’s a delightful American fairy tale about a child who longs for life’s “more” . . .
Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high
There’s a land that I’ve heard of once in a lullaby.
Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream,
Really do come true.
It seems there’s a lot of Dorothy in folks these days . . . they’re longing for what’s over the rainbow, fully expecting it to satisfy their every dream. I suspect many of them will eventually long for home and simpler times like Dorothy did . . . and I do! Don’t get me wrong, I’m comfortable in the 21st century; it’s just sometimes I think enough is enough and I get a little nostalgic. Such was the case when we moved into our recently acquired home and I found Toto (actual brand name), not a dog but a bidet, ensconced in the master bathroom.
Now, I know a little bit about how the human body functions; in fact, after utilizing chamber pots, outhouses, latrines of various sizes and shapes, and assorted facilities in the world, one might say I’m an aficionado of sorts. Thus, I never expected to be intimidated in my own bathroom . . . foolish me!
For starters, Toto has clearly visible warning labels in seven languages: “Misuse may result in death or serious injury!” Let me tell you, that will cause you to pause even when nature is shouting!
Toto came with a forty-eight-page instruction manual – how could taking care of business possibly have evolved into something so complicated? Then there’s the newspaper-size insert (only a few scaredy-cats are going to plow through forty-eight pages) highlighting the items not to be ignored; among them is this direction printed in bold type: “Only use drinking water.” Has somebody misunderstood Toto’s function?
And did I mention, Toto has lights – how did I get by all these years? On the rare occasion I dare to sit down (Toto has competition from the non-bidet across the hall), I can hear the unnerving sound of water moving somewhere deep inside; it’s akin to the sound of a geyser preparing to erupt and tends to cause one to, shall we say, sit lightly. I’m confounded, too, as to why the seat is heated – seems a little over the top to me! But my biggest puzzlement involves Toto’s remote control . . . some things you just can’t do from a distance!
Oh where, oh where is this yellow brick road leading us, Dorothy?
