Let’s Practice Healthy Public Restroom Behavior

Public Restroom - semi clean

Let’s keep our public toilets usable and open

I have been spun up about this subject for years now. It is one of those subjects the “Experts” say never to post. Seeing this is not a monetary blog, I am breaking the ‘rules’. I know if you are a normal male, it bugs you too.

In Public Restrooms, this is what some of us men and their male children do, thinking it is their right

Men and their children peeing on the toilet seats because they won’t lift the seats up.
Men and their children leaving their business in the bowl waiting for the next user

Men and their children who spray their waste around the toilet stall

Men and Boys who think plugging up toilets and flush flooding is funny

I am tired of Men and Boys, who like dogs, feel the need to territorially mark Public Restrooms with their bodily waste

I said it, its out in the open now. One of our darkest male secrets is something we would never do in our own home. A few of us Men have filthy habits. No thoughts of the privileges of a public bathroom because other Men and Boys are responsible restroom users, and do not make a mess.

Public Restrooms are not a right. Public Restrooms do not have cleaning crews waiting for us Men and Boys to trash their Restroom. Waiting in the back room waiting to rush in and clean up after us.

Public Restrooms are a courtesy of the business providing them. The business proving public restrooms can revoke the courtesy as they choose. It is easier than enforcing dress codes in their store. No explanation or reason needed.

For Men and Boys who make messes in public restrooms should  think about their actions. Your front porch, lawn, and rooms in your home are your personal territory. Mark them all you wish if you are the owner. Public Restrooms are not a space any rational male should want to claim as his. If you feel the urge to mark up a public restroom as your personal property, I suggest getting some help with your self esteem.

I do not want to go into a place of business and find the Public Restroom doors locked and a sign stating no public restrooms available. This is not generally a pleasant situation when it occurs. Let’s work on protecting this privilege some do not have.

Treat all public property as if it is your own property by taking care of it. It will help lower prices in the store. Have some respect for the people who have to clean up after you. Be courteous to them as they are to you, giving you a free relatively clean place to do your private business away from home.

Hershey The Cat

Hershey the Cat in her prime

Family member, confident, and friend.

Hershey the Cat died early this morning. I was with Hershey at her passing a few minutes after one o’clock. It is a relief she died, though it is so painful too. Hershey couldn’t go on any more. Over her last few days she quit eating and stopped drinking.

Hershey was a family member for almost twenty years. Hershey entered our life a very young kitten, starving and lost at a campground. No one ever claimed her, so she joined our family.

Hershey was smart as a whip. Hershey learned how to ring a bell to be let in, come home from exploring to the sound of a dog whistle, play hide go seek, and in her last year Hershey was very proud of herself when she learned to meow what sounded like “hello”.

Hershey got mad often as Siamese Cats do. She purred as she fought with my hand, and could hold a grudge for days. We both loved an disliked each other through the years, same as family members everywhere.

Hershey was an above and beyond mother. We kept one of her only litter of three kittens. Hershey was still trying to take care of her son (about six months younger than her) in the few hours before she passed on.

My wife called her Her/She when we found her at the campground as a kitten. She was a Chocolate Point Siamese. Hershey became her name. She could have been Heinz 57 for all I care. Hershey was the cat of a lifetime. I am so blessed to have had her as part of my family.

I could go on for another ten thousand words about Hershey the Cat. If you have or had pets you understand. If you never had pets, you may not understand. Hershey took care of us as we took care of her. Hershey was a great Cat, friend, consoler, and family member. I hope I was some of those things for Hershey, or maybe did other things only a cat would need understand.

I miss Hershey deeply.

Mystery Handcuffs

There are these planting rings cut from five gallon buckets, semi-buried around the edge of what used to be the division between my front yard, driveway, and street. Pine Leaf Penstemons had been planted in each one. I was told they did not like water. That thought was fine with me. I would water them not more than once a month and they thrived for over a decade.

Eventually the Penstemons arrived at the end of their lifespan and one by one died off. The planting rings have been devoid of plants for about four years as surrounding rock covered them nicely no one noticed there were plastic rings every few feet. Except the hummingbirds who were not happy their Penstemons died out.

This year I decided I wanted to put Penstemon in again for the Hummingbirds.  Food for Hummingbirds will be meager due to the drought we are in. A drought in the desert is much worse than a drought in other parts of the country. We are already dry and dusty to begin with. Even native drought resistant and drought tolerant plants have their limits when it comes to going without water.

Some plants try to go to seed and dry up. Other plants go into a type of hibernation waiting for rains to bring them back to life once again. Many plants simply die of thirst. According to the weatherman, water is not something they see in our areas future. Which brings me back to the rings.

I bought six Pine Leaf Penstemons and carefully planted one in each ring. I realized I had two rings left unplanted. The rocks did such a good job of covering them, I miscounted and actually had eight rings instead of six rings. I went to a local nursery and bought two more Pine Leaf Penstemons. The first went into the ground as the six before it.

When I started to trowel out soil from the last planter, I hit a rock about four inches down. I thought that was odd as I remembered taking out the rock and sand and replacing it with top soil before planting the first time around.

I angled the trowel more vertically, dug under the rock, and lifted. The rock was not heavy at all. I was surprised in that brief instant of how light it was. What came out of the ground was a ring with a chain holding another opened ring. Buried in that planting ring for who knows how long was a pair of Smith and Wesson Handcuffs!

Of all the items I would ever imagine digging up from in my yard, a pair of handcuffs would not be on the list! Yet here they were. They were a little corroded around the shackles and chain, but otherwise they were in fairly good shape. As I looked closer I saw they were engraved.

Mystery CuffsThe engraving was good quality, and after a Google search on the letters MCSO. I called the number that came up. Mara Copa Sheriff’s Office located in Phoenix and Chandler, Arizona. A ways from there to Albuquerque I thought.

I explained to the operator what I had dug up. The operator took down what I took to be the serial number. They put me on hold for a bit, and when they returned I was asked to call my local police department non emergency number.

I went through the explanation again, read out the letters and numbers of the etchings. I was again placed on hold. The operator came back on and told me a police officer would be by to take the handcuffs away. Less than ten minutes alter a police car arrived and a Police Officer took possession of the handcuffs.

I will probably never learn the story behind the handcuffs, or why the operators didn’t tell me to keep them or throw them away as I chose. Handcuffs can be purchased at almost any gun shop, or business that sells military or self defense items, so it isn’t like they are rare items here.

In retrospect I did feel a little cheated. Instead of handcuffs, a bag of old gold coins, or old stone encrusted jewelry would have been much more fun. Not sure if I would have made the phone calls to the police, but I imagine I would have.

Maybe I will go out searching for the recently hidden New Mexico treasure valued at millions of dollars. Perhaps treasure hunting is my true calling?