If you have ever had the distinct pleasure of living anywhere it gets below thirty degrees at any time during the year, you may have noticed that certain areas of your home will feel far colder. Areas such as the bathroom, where, upon entering to answer the call of nature, you immediately develop a case of goosebumps which can cause Google Earth to readjust their topography maps. The reason for this sudden array of mountain sized goose flesh is the somewhat frightening John's Law of Climate: The temperature will always feel below zero when one needs to use the toilet. Incidentally, anything below thirty happens to be below zero according to the Celsius scale, which seems to make sense the moment your unprotected nether regions hit that toilet seat.
It might interest you to know that John Crapper, the man most often credited with the development of the modern toilet, was also a philosopher, mathematician and a developer of hypothetical theorems- This lead to many of his colleagues telling him to send his worthless ideas down the outhouse, which was what sent John on his way to creating his famous invention. Thus, people now, instead of saying "throw those ideas of yours in the outhouse!" now say "flush 'em down the crapper."
I believe we all owe a debt of gratitude to Mr. John Crapper, for revolutionizing our turn-of-phrase.
Cold Spots, however, is our topic today, because unless you keep your home thermostat at just slightly below Satan's own, you too have dealt with these horrible events. Moreover, it is my belief that the cold of the seat is directly proportionate to the necessity of use. In other words, if you don't have to go too terribly, the toilet seat won't be nearly as cold as if, say, you were streaking in for a photo finish. At those times, it will always feel as if you've just sat on a block of ice, and you will be hard pressed not to rise up slightly just to be certain you've not gotten stuck to the seat.
Cold Spots do not just occur at the time when you are the most desperate to use the toilet, though. Cold Spots will hit when you least expect it: For instance, when you take a shower. Unless you're one of those clinically insane individuals who actually enjoys taking your showers in water so cold it makes polar bears shiver, you will recognize this scenario.
You've made it past the cold toilet seat. You've gotten used to the coolness of the bathroom air. Now, you've turned on the water and are enjoying the steam rise up and curl around you. You step into the shower, and, with the exception of getting Head & Shoulders in your eyes twice, you thoroughly enjoy your shower. Now comes the moment when you step forth from shower, clean and dripping wet, only to find that, suddenly, you too have been transported to Narnia during the reign of the White Witch. You know this is the case because you're suddenly sniffling as if you've got a cold; icicles are now dangling from the leg which you so brazenly stretched out from the shower; and there's Mr. Tumnus coming towards you with his wrapped packages.
Fortunately, I know, most of us have learned how to deal with this sort of situation. We immediately withdraw back to the shower, and crank on the water, once more, to high. As we shiver, the water eventually brings us back to our own world, and we vow to never again set foot outside the warmth of our shower.
Finally, there is the nightly shock. You know this story intimately, I'm sure, unless you happen to own an electric blanket. Those are nice. Why they ever began cautioning against them, just because they were "prone to electrical fires which could potentially turn you into a charcoal briquette," I'll never know. But I digress.
It is bedtime, (which for me could be anywhere from eleven pm to seven am), and you stagger into your room with weights on your eyes. You clumsily change into your bed clothes, and all at once realize you need to run to the bathroom. After dealing with the Cold Seat, you return to your bedroom, attempting to use the friction of your hand on your pajamas to warm your derriere. Finally, you are ready to turn in. You roll back the covers, and think you hear something about going to the Dagoba System. Ignoring this omen, you slide in- And are suddenly on the planet Hoth, freezing, while Han Solo complains about how bad something smells.
Yes, once more, the Cold Spot has struck, this time in the safety and sanctity of your own bed!
Cold Spots have no mercy, they have no decency, and they love to chill us. Yet, it all seems to go back to the Cold Seat. Perhaps, if we rectified these, we may end the tyranny of Cold Spots forever. Thus, I'll close by saying that I intend to run for President of the United States, and my platform will be to demand that all toilet seats throughout the country be heated. My motto will be "together, we can take a hot-" Wait. That won't work.
Ah, well. Back to the old drawing board.