Spare Change

There's No Place Like Home....Depot

Posted by Bryan

We have a plumbing problem. The master bathroom toilet detached from the floor. and by "detached," I mean "broke away from unexpectedly at a most inconvenient time." And as a note, The picture you see is not my toilet, but it *is* a fairly decent representation of my work environment.

That was Tuesday night. Three days, two plumbers, and a $450 estimate later, I decided to pull the tool belt out of the closet and once again become Bob Vila.

The account for that will come later...once the job is finished (if that gives you any indication about how things are going).

So....

Friday afternoon, I took a brief journey on the Internet where I quickly sought to gain enough skills to become a plumber's apprentice (figuring that was all that would be necessary for a job of this magnitude). I accomplished this by Googling^® such terms as:

• toilet repair for the clueless


• toilet replacement options, preferably #1 and #2


• What is a flange?


• Why are wax rings so icky?


• Minimizing the hallucinatory effects resulting from working with mulitple PVC solvents in a confined space with little air circulation


• Toilet repair: How to know when I'm in over my head, so to speak

I quickly learned that my next prayer of thanksgiving would include a proclamation of gratitude of the magnitude of Psalm 119 that the Lord had directed my path away from sewage waters and that I had not myself become a plumber.

So I spent the next 90 minutes removing the old, broken-yet-still-cemented-to-the-floor toilet flange. And by "removing," I mean "chiseling away with a hammer and assortment of flathead screw-drivers. At one point, that flange looked like an extra in a low-budge horror movie where the murderer was a psycopathic Tim Taylor accupuncturist.

But I finally succeeded. Shards of PVC lay everywhere, due to the discovered characteristic that it tends to disintegrate explosively when subjected to the violent pressure of a highly-motivated Baptist minister with half the plumbing skills of Paris Hilton (altough on multiple occasions I too muttered, "that's hot!" because I used a barbecue lighter to melt the wax from the old ring that had gotten ev-ry-where.)

It was time to go to Home Depot. I loaded up the kids, and off we went, with list in hand. This is the first time in my 33 years I've ever walked down the plumbing aisle at the Depot. Well, at least intentionally walked down the aisle.

I spent considerable time looking for the right accoutrements for my job (I'm not sure that "accoutrements" is the right word for "toilet supplies," but I appreciate the grace nonetheless). The children entertained themselves by pushing the cart to-and-fro, randomly opening boxes, and calling for a clean up in the lumber yard.

Not really. I'm not sure what they were doing because my attention was diverted, but I'm pretty sure they were well-behaved.

So that brings me to the whole point of this entry. And thanks for wading through the back story to get here.

There's only two adults in the plumbing aisle. We had our backs to each other. I on the left, he on the right. However, it was at the exact same moment that we realized that, without planning or preparation, we were in fact singing a robust duet to Toto's Rosanna, which was playing on the Home Depot PA system.

I was singing a capella, albeit with a possibly-inappropriately hearty gusto, and this gentleman self-accompanied his own crooning with episodic whistling. Suddenly self aware, we each looked over our shoulder at exactly the same moment, with an exchange of piercing guilty-as-charged-yet-still-very-accusing glares.

The look confirmed the unspoken pact, if ever again our paths shall cross, speak of this moment we will not, or deny it wholly I will.

I want to know why Home Depot has approved Toto, much less Rosanna, as part of the acceptable corporate play list. They should be allowed to play nothing except Muzak versions of ZZ Top, Van Halen, and The Boss. Mantown never gave Toto honorary citizenship. They weren't invited to sing ballads during the Mantown-wide nail-driving competition. They aren't welcome in mythic Mantown, and they shouldn't be playing on Home Depot speakers. They cause uncomfortable and wierd things to happen, and accordingly, should be band (ba-dum-pum-^csssh - come back for tomorrow's show, and bring a friend!).

Shamed and angry at what Home Depot had elicited from me, I gathered my supplies, paid $35 dollars (particularly poignant as I paid, remembering the $450 estimate), and headed home.

The next chapter will post later, where I share how I had to spoon with the toilet to get the bowl reattached....which I can guarantee, you won't find any chapter on that on any "how to" web page or chapter of a home improvement book.

I leave you with a moment of Zen...and I am not kidding....Toto Toilets...where their splash page (NPI, I promise!) opens with the tagline "Serenity Found." I was sad to discover, through their residential toilet search (again, their unfortunate terminology, not mine) they do not offer a Rosanna model in their lineup of fine porcelain products.

Update: For you many wax ring/flange repair surfers, here's the link to the rest of the "how to" process.

January 21, 2006 7:48 AM