Toilet Paper

Staying with the bathroom theme, let’s look at toilet paper. The toilet was, of course, in the garden. The idea of having a toilet indoors was laughed at as being suspiciously unhygienic. We were pretty posh in our household because we always had toilet paper and it was usually soft, mostly pink and came in rolls. Public conveniences and eccentric aunties had stuff that was hard, scratchy and came in single sheets that could –and did- double as tracing paper. My grandparents thought the use of toilet paper a new fangled extravagance and an unnecessary luxury. They favoured squares of newspaper stuck on a nail in the outhouse. This early training stood me in good stead during my years of foreign travel to similarly minded nations. If you ever find yourself in a country where toilet paper is unavailable, as I did in Mozambique, then might I suggest a subscription to the airmail edition of the Guardian Weekly is the way to go.

I think we’ve come full circle with toilet paper. We’ve had the soft, silky years. Now folk are returning to abrasive re-cyclable. How much longer till it's back to newspaper?

Toothpaste

Take toothpaste for example. When I was a child, toothpaste was white and came in a metal tube with a red screw-on cap. Said cap was the subject of much dissent in households everywhere. People (mostly children and men) were always being accused (mostly by women) of failing to screw the top back on the toothpaste. The top often went missing causing the paste to ooze out onto the window ledge where it was kept. This, in turn, would dry into a chalky white powder and give the bathroom a disused, abandoned air that distressed housewives nationwide. Failure to screw the top back on the toothpaste was seen as evidence of a dissolute nature and proof (if any were needed beyond the continual leaving up of the toilet seat) that men were a) incapable of looking after themselves and b) naturally inconsiderate. To corroborate this theory further one only had to look at how they (men and children) squeezed the tube at the top not the bottom. A quick, careless pinch near the top of the tube and a blob of toothpaste obligingly popped out onto the brush. However, due to the nature of the metal tube this meant that two weeks later you were left with a flat bit at the top and a bulge at the bottom. This necessitated rolling the end of the tube up in order to force the paste further up the tube. If people could only be trained to squeeze from the bottom in the first place how much more efficient the whole operation would be.

I think now you can see what I mean by progress. First they put cheerful coloured stripes into the white paste and then they put it into plastic tubes that needed considerably less coaxing. Then, finally, someone had the bright idea of attaching the top to the tube so that it could never get lost and practically closed itself. Nowadays we have pastes of all types plus a variety of gels and an endless array of flavours (bubble gum flavour was one that failed to attract me recently). Keeping your smile shiny has never been easier.

For the record, I favour Sensodyne blue gel for sensitive teeth and I always squeeze from the bottom of the tube. If I were to be stranded on a desert island then my luxury item of choice would be a solar powered electric toothbrush.

Do tell. What's your most vivid toothpaste memory?

Already too old to die young

I’m fifty. Half a century. Already too old to die young. It seems like an appropriate time to take stock and look back. I was considering the changes I’ve seen just in my meager lifetime and thinking perhaps I would make a few notes before I forget how things used to be. Harking back to the halcyon days of my youth when summers were longer and people were nicer? Hell no. I’m not THAT old yet! (though I hope to be one day) I like having internet access and a mobile phone. I was brought up on Star Trek: the future’s so bright I gotta wear shades.