Knights of the Throne

December 2, 2019

Greetings from the legacy,

In the days of yore, the kings of the land would assemble a cohort of skilled people with which to run his kingdom.  (Note to grammatists, this should not be confused with the days of your or you’re.)  There were the knights of the sword, wizards of magic, jesters, viziers, soothsayers, and of course, the plumbers.

Yes, plumbers. These noble artisans were tasked with bringing water to the castles and creating a civilized and sanitary life for the people of the kingdom.  In many ways, they made modern society possible. 

I bring to your attention this regal history because recently I took on the responsibility of the installation of a new toilet.   There is a decades old ban on such activity, back to the incident of the Levitating Garbage Disposal.  It has been suggested, in some cases with accompanying restraining orders, that I leave plumbing projects to professionals.

Ah, but I have in me the blood of the Royal Knights of the Throne.  It’s true.  I know that my ancestors swung the mighty pipe wrench, wielded the solder and thrust the plunger.  I feel it in me, even as I bend over to look under the sink at the mystery there, perhaps revealing that my jeans are riding a little low.

I have done the work in the past.  Not that experience has in any way helped me before.  I mostly rely on confidence, my plumbing intuition, and the instincts handed down to me from the heritage that rests in my very DNA.  And also, an occasional reference to YouTube.  Regardless, we had company coming for the holidays and I wanted it to be a low flush experience.

The old toilet was hauled outside where the neighbors could enjoy it.  I considered creating a work of art around it, or perhaps featuring it in a creche, but, for good or bad, more tasteful heads prevailed.  

The installation of the new toilet went flawlessly.  (Savor those words.)  I saw it like a vision flowing in my subconscious, each step magically leading to the next, each piece fitting as the Master Plumber had designed it, so beautifully written in Genesis.  Well, implied, I think we can agree, in the description of the seventh day.

I stood looking at the toilet, feeling proud, feeling redeemed, my sodden reputation finally flushed behind me, so to speak.  You can imagine how satisfying it is to complete a plumbing project successfully.  I can too, mostly because I have a really good imagination.

I turned on the water and listened with joy as the toilet tank filled with a musical lilt, and there was no sign of errant moisture.  I took a deep breath and summoned the power and magic from the ancient lords of the pipe, and with a firm, positive stroke, pressed my finger to the lever for the coupe de grace that every Knight of the Throne has experienced through the generations; The First Royal Flush.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land faucets are not broken,

The water stops and starts and no curses need be spoken,

And sump pumps run and water heats,

Pipes don’t rattle to strange frantic beats,

Hoses don’t split and fittings don’t give way,

Shower heads produce a pleasant spray,

And somewhere men are laughing, at the working garden spout,

But there is no joy in Flushing, Mighty David has struck out.

Yes, it’s hilarious that I live in Flushing.  I almost said ‘ironic’ but I didn’t want to get out my dictionary.

One advantage of the modern toilet is that it uses less water.  This is so when you forget to put in an important gasket, clearly illustrated in the instructions, then the amount of water that gushes into your bathroom is not catastrophic.  Unless you count the loss of self-esteem.

One thing I learned, which in a couple weeks I will have unlearned, is that you can’t just rely on your instinct, however strong it might feel, even if it is handed down to you from a regal heritage which you may have made up while waiting for your bagel to toast.  Sometimes you have to read the clearly illustrated instructions. 

Don’t let this story deter you from your own reckless home repairs.  I think we are made to try and experiment and fail and learn and try again.  Even if it takes six decades, or more, one day you will eventually gain enough experience to make the Knights of the Throne proud.  In the meantime, keep some big towels handy.  Not those; those are for company.  The ones you took from the hotel.

Hope this finds you handy,

David

Copyright © 2019 David Smith