New ghosts on the block

August 8, 2021, 4:54 pm , by Newsroom

Richard Lutz wanders through his new home. But first a small matter that needs flushing out…

I don’t want to sound too lavatorial this early in the day. It’s not nice. But  I do have a twitch about using public conveniences.

To wit, my local swimming pool is open with pandemically correct pre-booked lanes for plodding up and down in the water. It works easily, as easy as ice cream on a sunny day. All well and good.

Fhe changing rooms, which are immaculate, include toilets. Still all well and good. But I counted nine times I had to touch handles, knobs, dispensers or levers to use them (use your imagination on this one….work with me here). 

Of course, the device that really pisses me off (excuse me..) is the flush. Why can’t there be a foot pedal or a voice activated something or other? For instance, I see no reason based on plumbing, hydraulics or Newtonian law that would rule out a lever at the base on ground level. And it would be a sight more hygienic unless you were the  type of cleano-maniac who had a weird  hang-up about sanitised germ free foot apparel. Same with the wash basin which could be foot powered. I restroom my case, m’lord.

With that in mind and safely tucked away, I return to exploring our new home in Glasgow with, of course, the attendant 60 cardboard boxes of junk and clothes I don’t need. Or didn’t know I even owned.

It’s at night that it’s an exploration if not an outright obstacle course. Trying to find my own newly-purchased bathroom is  maddening.  Bare feet bang on violent bed frames, the light switches are hidden in unknown places. The door handle is in a stupid angle. There’s a monumentally evil step that somehow appears after midnight that can trip you up if not break your neck. Plus just how do you turn off the bathroom fan? We haven’t figured out that one. Nor have we fully grasped the locks on the patio doors which seem to contain every manoeuvre…. except locking.

The one specific major change, though, is being The New People. We have the opportunity to re invent ourselves since it is the first time we moved home in 38 years. Our past is a blank screen, a hidden country. Our political  hue an unknown landscape. Our table manners a secret. Who we are, what we are and who and what we were are all unplotted territory.

We are the new ghosts of the street …the unknowns

People probably check out our spavine broken backed car, our re-tread curtains, what is going into the house, what is not going into the house. But some clues stay unemerged. The stuff we hang on our walls, for example, remain untouched, unseen in a back bedroom asleep for a while. And, by the way, speaking of pictures and the like, where did we get that globby red painting that’s been  part of our lives for a quarter of a century? And more important, which of us actually paid money for it? It’s awful.

Anyway, we are the new ghosts on the block, the unknowns bringing newness to a neighbourhood. We are strangers. 

Maybe I could re invent myself immediately. When a neighbour finally asks what  I do (not much) for a living if they haven’t yet googled me, maybe I can tell them I’m an entrepreneur in the live sex show biz, or a former tennis champ  (underwater mixed doubles was my specialty) or an expert in Persian street music or a freelance milkman.

No, better yet: ‘I invent better ways to flush toilets and wash hands hygienically.’ Now, that’s a conversation stopper. I’d be the weird new guy in the street who does something geeky with personal commodes and conveniences. That’d put the slammer on unwelcome invitations for Friday night drinks with our new pals. Imagine sitting next to someone who’s an expert in urinal safety or proper sanitary ware etiquette. I think we’d be eating all alone for quite a long time.