Perfect gift offers comfort and joy
Everybody has one – that hard-to-buy-for person on their Christmas list. The one who has everything and needs nothing. I was thinking about my hard-to-buy-for folks a few weeks ago when I got a phone call from a friend.
She said, “I went to a dinner party last night. A guest went to the restroom and was gone quite awhile. When she returned, she said, ‘You guys have to come see this toilet!’ ”
My friend started to giggle. So we all trooped upstairs. “Cindy, you’ve got to see this toilet. It’s the most amazing thing! It’s got a control panel. It’s got a heated seat, front and back wash and a blow dryer. Plus, it’s self-cleaning.”
This commode was a dinner party highlight. Everyone had to see and experience this wonder. Now, my friend is a writer of nonfiction, but I had to wonder if she’d exaggerated a bit. Because if she hadn’t, I knew I’d found it – the perfect gift for someone who has everything.
Some folks may have difficulty phoning a stranger to ask if they could come see their bathroom, but I make calls like this for a living. As a writer, I frequently call people I’ve never met and ask them personal questions. Even so, I hesitated before I picked up the phone. My friend’s hostess is a shy Japanese lady who would never want to draw any attention to herself.
Still, when I called, she graciously invited me to her home provided I keep her name out of the newspaper. “Everyone will want to come see my toilet,” she explained.
When I arrived, she ushered me to the bathroom to witness this marvel of Japanese technology. She pointed out all its glorious features. The device is really a seat which affixes to a standard toilet. It comes with console attached that looks like it was designed using Star Wars technology. “See,” my hostess said. “Four temperature settings for the water and for the dryer. You don’t need to use toilet paper anymore!”
“What’s this button for?” I asked.
“Oh, that’s the massage button,” she said. That’s right. Push a button and you get your own very personal pulsating Jacuzzi action. If that’s not enough, the seat is weight-activated. The moment someone sits down a sensor activates a deodorizer, and a lovely floral scent disseminates throughout the room.
Then came the moment of truth. “You must try it for yourself,” my new friend insisted. I started to demur, but I’ve flown in a biplane, shot handguns and tried to learn bridge in the name of a good story, who am I to turn down such an offer?
My hostess left me alone with this plastic and porcelain miracle. Feeling somewhat intimated by the electronics, I proceeded with caution.
And here is where words fail. I’ve used a lot of commodes in my life, but never have I experienced such luxury. On that cold, snowy day, the warmed seat was so soothing, so relaxing. As for the other amenities, let’s just say I tried them all, and they were wonderful. This is truly a throne, I thought.
However, my enthusiasm dampened slightly when I rejoined my hostess. It turns out these toilets aren’t cheap. Hers cost around $600, and a visit to the Bathpro Corp. Web site, www.bathpro.net, revealed models that ventured as high as $1,200.
While I mulled over the price, she had one more thing to show me. She led me to her downstairs family room and invited me to sit on the floor. “This is a kotatsu,” she explained, pointing to a table. “Every home in Japan has one. It’s where families gather.”
It looked like an ordinary coffee table with a quilt over it. She lifted the quilt to reveal a heating element attached to the underside of the table. “Sit here and slide your feet under,” she said. So I did. My chilly toes grew delightfully toasty, and with the beautiful quilt tucked snugly around me, I was in heaven.
“Can I stay?” I asked.
She laughed. “It’s nice isn’t it?”
So, there you have it. Two gift ideas for the person who has everything. Referring to her toilet, my hostess explained, “I told my friend I’d rather have this than a diamond ring.”
And after experiencing it myself, all I can say is: Me, too.