I once saw and episode of Star Trek in which most of the crew members regress to their pre-evolutionary states. One woman transformed into an amphibious creature, cold-blooded and water dwelling. In her wildness, she sought refuge in a bathtub filled with warm water, peeking from time to time over the edge of the tub with yellow, newt-like eyes.
Given my own visceral tendency to seek refuge and comfort in a bath of warm water, it would be easy for me to be persuaded into believing that I had evolved from some primordial salamander. Oh, the exquisite feeling of that first dip into a sultry, bubbly bath, the transition from cool air to steamy water. Skin orgasm. My receded gills quiver with gratification. I slide down into the shallows and peer warily over the edge of the tub at homo sapiens, content inside my amphibious confines. My brain cooks up all kinds of euphorically ridiculous schemes. I feel cozy and utterly safe.
I have been teased, admonished, scolded for loitering in the bath tub for extended periods. Many times this is completely justified, it's true. I'm sure the whole thing is simply viewed as a waste of time in this wash and wear, in and out, burnin' daylight world we live in. Surely, time is a precious commodity but its value to me is defined much differently than the ol' time is money chestnut.
My bathroom, wherever it may be....the big, decadent one I enjoy here in Budapest to the tiny, mold prone Portland hovel I shut myself into... will forever be my sanctuary. Be it ever so humble and all.
Bathroom as chapel. Is it so far fetched? Inside this relatively small room, we are alone with ourselves or, if you prefer, our gods, away from the influence of the world at large. Something about the nudity and the tending of basic needs that forces unabashed honesty....the warmth and seclusion of the bathroom buffers us from the harshness of that rectitude. How many times have you been on the toilet and come to a final, crucial decision while sitting (and shitting)? How often, have you spilled a confession of any sort, to yourself and by yourself, within the solitude and privacy of your powder room? How many times, as you submerge your naked body into warm, fragrant water, have you felt a fleeting millisecond of sharp euphoria that softens into a delicious sense of contentment? Kind of like heroin for the soul.
Perhaps everyone's day would be mellower, easier, less hectic if more people would allow themselves this simple joy. Showers offer their own benefits; great spells of thinking and problem solving can occur while standing under an invigorating spray, but the bath alone gives you the time to contemplate and commiserate with yourself. Let's face it, we all need a good talking to, and we might as well have honest conversations with ourselves when we can. Here, in this city of public baths, among a population convinced of their healing properties, I feel justified and emboldened to express my love for them and to indulge in this therapy, daily, in the privacy of my own home. I save at least 2000 forint this way and I don't have to put my hair up in a rubber band.
I think it is good for humans to revert to a slightly animal state on a daily basis. Keeps us tied to the earth (and water) from whence we came. Being naked and alone in the bath is an excellent way to ensure this. No need for sacraments, liturgy, or shame. When the powers that be finally ask me for advice as to what to do about this gnarly fuck up or that, I will tell them what I read, in the bathtub, years ago from the pages of that snarky, tub- friendly rag, the New York Observer.
I will look them straight in the eye, armed with oils of eucalyptus and coconut, offer these treasures with outstretched arms and state emphatically, "Good God, man, go take a bath!" x
