Dear Otus,
We're faced with the sad prospect of having to replace our beloved 48-year-old American Standard commode. After decades of faithful service, the ol' gal is finally on her last legs.
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We were going to just take her to the dump, but our neighbor, who has been a regular reader of your column since 1980, recalls you once wrote about a place in England or Humnoke that re-purposes old toilets as planters. Is that outfit still in business? We'd love to see our old commode put to good use.
-- Sissy Feean,
Big Rock
Dear Sissy,
It was wholly a pleasure to hear from you and to thank you for reminding me of Cotter Commode Farm near Scott. I haven't thought about that magical place in years.
I also find it endearing that you have applied anthropomorphism to your family fixture. That you are attached to the "ol' gal" is understandable. It's hard these days to find a fixture or appliance that gives such lasting service.
The vintage commode we once owned was original with the house and also had become like a member of the family. In the end, sadly, she had to be humanely "put down" by the painless Plumbco professional.
The commode -- we called her "Cloacina" -- was all shiny and new when the pink and green tile en suite bath was finished in 1953. She must have been something to see in her prime.
Cloacina was a venerable 51 years old. That may not be all that old for humans, but in toilet years, it's about 94.
She was also an American Standard -- one of the classic, no-frills, post-war, suburban models. A full-size, gravity-fed, 3.5-gallon serious flushing machine. Cloacina was a daily reminder of the halcyon days before eco-activist conservation fascists took over.
On Oct. 24, 1992, lame-duck President George H.W. Bush ensured that his legacy was in the toilet by signing the Energy Policy Act, which mandated that a paltry 1.6 gallons (6 liters) per flush (GPF) was the maximum for all new toilets. That may help preserve our dwindling natural resources, but it hardly gives a satisfying whoosh.
The old American Standard used to rattle the floor and frighten small children. You knew she meant business when you tripped her handle.
I'm told the new low-flow fixtures save Americans $18.3 million in wastewater bills every day. Ah, but what's saved in money is lost in job satisfaction.
Owner faced a tough decision. Should the old toilet be sent to the then-new Cotter Commode Farm, or humanely pulverized and her porcelain dust scattered over the pet semetary in the side yard (where, by the way, my corporeal remains repose beneath a garden gnome)?
Owner opted for the farm.
Cotter Commode Farm is a lovely landscaped alternative for those so inclined. Nonfunctioning toilets can now spend the rest of their days re-purposed as planters.
Oliver and Constance Cotter live just off Arkansas 161 about six miles south of Scott in the Estes community. The farm backs up to Georgetown Lake and contains approximately 2,700 toilets in geometric patterns.
The Cotters have been providing this pro bono service -- "a labor of love" -- for 15 years.
What started as a creative final resting place in their front yard for one of their own commodes (see photo) is now an impressive 17-acre field of porcelain and petunias, vitreous china and chrysanthemums.
It's a marvel to behold. One neighbor calls it the "Arlington National Cemetery for toilets." There's even a special section set aside for retired bidets.
"Now, when one of your toilets is terminal," Oliver says, "you can tell the kiddies it's going to live on a farm in the country to grow plants. Just don't call them 'pot' plants."
Oliver, a retired maintenance worker at the nearby David D. Terry Lock & Dam, says visitors are welcome and admission is free. There is, however, a donation box to help defer the cost of fertilizer.
If you visit the farm you can check out our old toilet. Cloacina has been installed in Section 7, Lot 18, Space 3 -- in the Garden of Perpetual Ballcocks. Oliver has planted Louisiana swamp irises in the bowl and marigolds in the tank.
Until next time, Kalaka reminds you to always put the seat down.
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HomeStyle on 04/09/2016