There has been a lot of discussion over the past five years concerning the legalization of marijuana. I don't know who came up with the word “pot” to describe marijuana, but they should have considered that the saying “going to pot” is not a positive one.
Love it or hate the use of pot, it looks like it’s here to stay until people get tired of the associated problems it brings and once again decide we want a sober population. Someone once said, “too much of anything ain't good” and I think they were right about food, rain, drought, booze, pot and even church. Everything in moderation.
In my household and probably in yours, there is another kind of pot out there that we all deal with on a daily basis and that’s the one in the “library.”
Years ago people had outdoor privies and so on cold nights they would use an item called a chamber pot hence the name "pot." Pushing it back under the bed, they would wait until the next morning to empty it in the outhouse.
Now I don’t know about you but I can’t imagine being locked up in a heated room with a chamber pot full of items of less than hygienic ingredients. And then having to deal with it the next day. That’s more than this old mountain man could take.
Now, there is one thing about going to the bathroom that all parents can tell you. If you want to hear from your teenager who hasn’t spoken to you in three years or find your third-grader lost in a video game, go to the bathroom for a quiet moment of privacy. I recall clearly that each time I tried to visit the “library” my kids would all of a sudden have an emergency needing my attention.
This worked well for me as they got in high school as whenever they were out too late I would just go in and sit down on the closed lid and almost instantly they would show up or call.
When I entered bachelorhood after three decades of marriage, I rejoiced in that no one was around to disturb my reading time. Entire volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica were now opened up to me and I worked my way from A to K in peace and quiet in a house high on the mountainside.
Somewhere about the listing for “Looney Bird” in the “L” volume, I met Trixie.
The first time we went for a long hike, she simply went behind a tree to take care of her business, making me fall instantly in love with her. I never knew women could do that. I guess in her 80 days on Mount Everest there weren't any facilities that flushed?
Things between us went really well for a while as I was living about 10 miles up in the mountains and our encounters were always the call-ahead kind. Now, though, she has an RV herself which is parked next to mine which means she can visit on a moment’s notice and does.
There is good news and bad news about that. The good news is I get to be with her all the time which so far is working out great for me. I would appreciate it if you readers would not clue her in on how good a deal I have and let Ol' Dutch enjoy the ride.
The bad news is that every time I try to visit the “library,” she shows up and wonders what I am doing. It is a great way to locate her no matter where she may be, but my intellectual growth is lagging due to not having sufficient time for a good book.
Of course Trixie has looked it up the optimal time a person should spend on the throne. She informs me that it is 30 seconds – maximum. Now Ol' Dutch suffered through 30 years of privy privation and is not going to be hurried in a race to the finish line now by any woman.
The other morning I made a big fuss about needing my morning library time so she took off on a long hike with a friend. I settled into the library with nothing to disturb me. Everything was perfect. Until, I heard that telltale whine. Not from Trixie, but Cooper, my yorkie, who had been left alone in the living room and needed some attention. I guess there are worse things than being a man who is needed by those he loves. But it sure limits his mental growth.