Toilets of Japan
The Fix has a policy to avoid toilet humour wherever possible, but that hasn’t stopped Dave Hill dipping his balls in one of Asia ’s finest varieties and writing about it for us.
Showbiz might be my day job, but - not unlike Hollywood ’s David Hassellhoff - I am considered a musical genius in countries where people generally don’t speak English. As a result, I recently toured Japan with my unstoppable rock band Valley Lodge. There’s no shortage of things I love about my new favorite non-English speaking country (you’re still tops me with, UK !). In the interest of brevity, however, I will use this magazine to focus on what blew my mind most about Japan : the toilets.
As with almost everything else over there, the toilets of Japan are vastly superior to the ones here in the states. For starters, in America we have basically one kind of toilet: the kind where you stand or sit down as gender or necessity dictates and do your business, before strolling out of the bathroom, hoping no one is wondering why you’ve been gone so long. In Japan , however, they have - by my count - four different toilets, each completely mesmerising in its own way. Toilet number one was in my hotel room in Osaka . At first glance, it appeared to be just like the ones I have pretty much already mastered - oval-shaped, porcelain, and just sort of toilet-y in general. The difference with their version, though, is that the bowl is either really shallow or the water is really high. Because of jetlag and prescriptions, I couldn’t figure out which, but about halfway through a seated performance on this one, I realised my goods had dropped below sea level (I say this not to suggest that I have anything more than standard equipment, but feel free to ask around). As a result, I then had to rinse my privates in the sink (the secret is to get one knee up on the counter and press your forehead against the mirror). And it’s just occurring to me now that having your junk submerged in toilet water is not a toilet improvement, but at the time it was quite a thrill. And given the other Japanese toilets I will be describing in these pages over the next several issues (I imagine I will be invited to speak publicly on the matter at some point also), I am just assuming junk submersion is a really good thing. Until next time, keep your feet on the ground, and keep reaching for the stars! Dave Hill
The Fix has a policy to avoid toilet humour wherever possible, but that hasn’t stopped Dave Hill dipping his balls in one of Asia ’s finest varieties and writing about it for us.
Showbiz might be my day job, but - not unlike Hollywood ’s David Hassellhoff - I am considered a musical genius in countries where people generally don’t speak English. As a result, I recently toured Japan with my unstoppable rock band Valley Lodge. There’s no shortage of things I love about my new favorite non-English speaking country (you’re still tops me with, UK !). In the interest of brevity, however, I will use this magazine to focus on what blew my mind most about Japan : the toilets.
As with almost everything else over there, the toilets of Japan are vastly superior to the ones here in the states. For starters, in America we have basically one kind of toilet: the kind where you stand or sit down as gender or necessity dictates and do your business, before strolling out of the bathroom, hoping no one is wondering why you’ve been gone so long. In Japan , however, they have - by my count - four different toilets, each completely mesmerising in its own way. Toilet number one was in my hotel room in Osaka . At first glance, it appeared to be just like the ones I have pretty much already mastered - oval-shaped, porcelain, and just sort of toilet-y in general. The difference with their version, though, is that the bowl is either really shallow or the water is really high. Because of jetlag and prescriptions, I couldn’t figure out which, but about halfway through a seated performance on this one, I realised my goods had dropped below sea level (I say this not to suggest that I have anything more than standard equipment, but feel free to ask around). As a result, I then had to rinse my privates in the sink (the secret is to get one knee up on the counter and press your forehead against the mirror). And it’s just occurring to me now that having your junk submerged in toilet water is not a toilet improvement, but at the time it was quite a thrill. And given the other Japanese toilets I will be describing in these pages over the next several issues (I imagine I will be invited to speak publicly on the matter at some point also), I am just assuming junk submersion is a really good thing. Until next time, keep your feet on the ground, and keep reaching for the stars! Dave Hill
