Since the arrival of Covid we have been accustomed to watching television programmes with pundits, politicians and celebrities interviewed in their homes, invariably with bookcases being the backdrop of choice.
Apart from providing us a sneaky glimpse into their lives, it is fun assessing these talking heads from their backdrop of books. Some of the bookshelves reek of affectation with lots of impressive classic tomes which you suspect have never been read by the person in question. More authentic are those shelves which are refreshingly chaotic and include everyday books that people might even have actually read.
It feels like a golden rule amongst those being interviewed these days is "What you say is not as important as the bookcase behind you."
Someone who discovered this first hand in somewhat embarrassing fashion recently was a young woman taking part in a BBC Wales progamme on unemployment. She was giving an interview when clearly visible to viewers, centrally placed on her bookshelf was an impressive pink dildo, which raised a few eyebrows.
Few remembered her views on unemployment, but the dildo sparked considerable social media discussion. Among the questions raised was what one does with such an object when it is not on active duty. It was generally agreed that placing it as a centre-piece on a bookshelf was perhaps not the best of ideas.
Brush with the law
Over the years we have witnessed assorted unlikely items that have become symbols of protests around the world, from pots and pans to rubber ducks. However in recent weeks for what must be the first time, a toilet brush has emerged playing a major role, putting in an appearance in the recent demonstrations in Russia along with blue undies.
The underwear on display is a reference to the belief that jailed opposition leader Alexei Navalny was poisoned by a toxin in the lining of his blue underwear.
But it is the toilet brushes being raised with commendable symbolic fervour that have caught the eye. It has been prompted by allegations that President Vladimir Putin owns a huge palace on the Black Sea, which reportedly includes expensive gold-plated toilet brushes. The brushes used by the protesters are somewhat cheaper.
It never crossed my mind that gold-plated toilet brushes even existed and I suspect the local 7-Eleven is not exactly overflowing with them. Upon checking out my own bathroom's toilet brush, I discovered a rather sorry-looking plastic pink affair with white bristles. It cost an outrageous 99 baht. I don't think I will be waving it about in the street.
Oriental relief
Afraid all this toilet talk got me thinking about my early days in Bangkok. The only decent toilets in the early 1970s were in the few first class hotels at the time. While strolling along Sathon Road one day I felt ominous rumblings in the nether regions, suggesting a pending attack of the Bangkok Trots. With no facilities nearby there was little option but to take a taxi which whisked me to the Oriental hotel, where I made it to their posh restroom just in time.
As I entered the foyer the uniformed doorman even saluted me, which was a nice touch considering the circumstances. On the rare occasions I visit that hotel these days I feel obliged to drop in at the restroom if only for old times' sake.
Spending a penny
Many big cities around the world are seriously lacking in public toilets. A few years ago an English newspaper reported on how difficult it was to find a toilet in Paris. It gave the newspaper the excuse to carry the splendid headline "To loos la trek".
The last time I was in London I traipsed around for ages to find a public "gents". Fortunately the pubs saved the day, which also provided a good excuse to have a quick pint. On one bladder-bursting occasion I nipped into Harrods purely to use their restroom, a most impressive facility with its marble floor and mahogany fittings with lots of gold plate. Alas I can't recall if the toilet brushes were gold plated. Fortunately the wife found Harrods too expensive, otherwise it could have become a very costly free pee.
In the mid-1990s, Harrods introduced a charge for the toilets because far too many undesirables like me were coming in from the street just to use the facilities and not buying anything. However, it prompted outrage in the media, sparking newspaper headlines such as "Charging a pound to spend a penny" and they eventually dropped the fee.
The smallest room
According to a survey a few years ago, 51% of British people still call the smallest room in the house a toilet. Another 29% prefer loo, 8% bathroom and 5% lav. Cockneys may still refer to the khazi, while Geordies prefer netty. My grandma always called it the privy.
What the remaining percentage of people call it is probably best left to the imagination, although I suspect dunny features regularly. Considering the number of Thais in Britain one imagines hong naam is also an expression in regular use.
The show must go on
At the risk of sinking into the depths of bad taste, I recall a provincial theatre in England which had a sign on the wall, unfortunately positioned right outside the toilet.
It read: "Patrons are required to remain seated throughout the entire performance".
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