There are certain things a person has to know when he chooses a place to eat. What is the menu like? How’s the food? What are the prices? And, last but certainly not least, how’s the can?
For too long, public bathrooms have been a hit-or-miss affair. Often literally. But no longer. Thanks to Minneapolis-based web site restroomratings.com, diners can find out in advance the quality of water closets from St. Paul to Seattle to Sao Paolo.
The site is flush with toilet reviews. By my quick estimate, the site currently features reviews of close to 460 toilets worldwide, including one for Minneapolis restaurant Yummy! that features an unsettling capsule review that reads, simply, “Yummy!”
The site reviews public bathrooms of all kinds, from restaurants to parks to gas stations. So, the next time you’re cruising through Breezewood, Pa. with a need to make a pit stop you’ll at least know the Shell station has a bathroom that is, according to the site, “Nothing to write home about, but decent enough to poop on.”
Don’t say you never learned anything from this column.
I have no idea, aside from the obvious cleanliness issues, what makes one bathroom superior to another. I found the facilities at El Meson, a restaurant where I ate dinner a few weeks ago, entirely ordinary. But the site’s reviewer gave it an eight out of 10, claiming it reflected the restaurant’s “rustic textures of a quaint Spanish villa.” Having spent limited time in the bathrooms of Spanish villas, I am forced to take them at their word. The cramped and generally uninspiring men’s room at The Chatterbox Pub, one of my favorite places to have a drink, got good marks for the cartoon characters painted on the walls.
I have never found a Taco Bell bathroom inspiring in any way, but one of the fast food chain’s restaurants got credit for its “sturdy and satisfying lock.” A toilet in New South Wales, Australia got bonus points because most of the water used for flushing is snow melt. And while the bathrooms at the Uptown Theater in Minneapolis lost points for being dirty and having stalls that are “uncomfortably close to each other,” it benefitted for a certain undefinable hipness.
On the flipside, the toilet at Afton State Park lost points because someone had, um, used the urinal for the wrong kind of relief. Actually, that ones is pretty easy to understand.
While I haven’t had time to thoroughly review the site, the capsule reviews for bathrooms can range from disturbing (One for Pizza Hut in Mauston Ill. gets, “Well kept place to eat and poop.” Eat? Really?) to odd (Pizzaria Uno in Phoenix, Ariz., gets, “Beware of crouching dwarves.” I have no idea what that means.) to predictable (The Phi Tau fraternity house in Hanover, NH gets, “Eewwww, just eeewww,” yet still somehow scores a six in the full review.).
The site has gotten its fair share of media attention. In a 2004 Pioneer Press story, Ami Thompson, who founded the site with her husband, Jon, explained the project began when she complained during a car trip that it was impossible to know which bathrooms were suitable for use. Making the decision where to stop, she told the reporter, was a crapshoot. I can’t be sure, but I choose to believe she intended to make a pun there.
Most of the reviews also feature pictures, although that presents certain issues. Some people, you might be surprised to know, do not take well to people taking pictures in the bathroom.
“If there’s a crowd, I plan my escape,” Jon says in the Pioneer Press article. “I’ll take a photo and run out so people don’t think I’m a pervert.”
This raises an interesting question: Are you more likely to consider someone if they snap a picture of a toilet and run out or if they take a photo, hang around and comment on the feng shui of the toilet stall? I have to imagine it’s a tossup.
Either way, we owe the Thompsons a debt of gratitude. In a world filled with disgusting bathrooms, it’s nice to have someone there to tell us where to go.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Friday, May 12, 2006
Do I make you angry?
Benjamin Franklin gets a lot of press for being one of this country’s Founding Fathers, or for tying a key to a kite during a lightning storm or for inexplicably supporting the wild turkey over the bald eagle as the symbol of the United States. He gets far less attention, it seems, for his role in the early development of American newspapers.
Maybe it’s because I was out of the country the year most students in my high school studied American history, or maybe I just never paid much attention, but until last weekend I knew next to nothing about Franklin’s role as a newspaperman. He did not publish the country’s first newspaper, but his Pennsylvania Gazette, which he founded after ending an apprenticeship with his older brother, James, is, according to Infamous Scribblers, Eric Burns’ history of the beginnings of journalism in America, one of the first respectable publications in the country.
I mention this because, according to Burns, Franklin published an essay in 1731 that does a pretty good job of defining the role of newspapers from the Washington Post to the Farmington Independent. He intended it, he wrote, to be “a standing Apology for my self.”
As quoted in Burns’ book Franklin asked those who disagreed with or were angered by something he printed to consider the following:
“1. That the Opinions of Men are almost as various as their Faces….
“2. That the Business of Printing has chiefly to do with Mens Opinions; most things that are printed tending to promote some, or oppose others.
“3. That hence arises the peculiar Unhappiness of that Businesss ... they who follow printing being scarce able to do any thing in their way of getting a Living, which shall probably not give Offence to some, and perhaps to many; whereas the Smith, the Shoemaker, the Carpenter or the Man of any other Trade may work indifferently for People of all Persuasions, without offending any of them….
“4. That it is unreasonable in any one Man or Set of Men to be expected to be pleased with every thing that is printed, as to think that nobody ought to be pleased but themselves….
“8. That if all printers were determined not to print any Thing until they were sure it would offend no Body, there would be very little printed.”
In other words, Franklin told his readers that if they read his newspaper long enough he was bound to make them mad. The same can be said of this newspaper. At least, I hope it can.
Maybe I should clarify: It is never our goal to make our readers angry. That would be irresponsible and unprofessional. But with so much happening around us we are bound to touch on some sensitive subjects.
Our readers, we hope, have opinions about things like the site of the new Farmington High School or the superintendent’s contract or the state of business in downtown Farmington. And while we believe our news reporting is free from our own opinions and as balanced as possible, there are bound to be items that hit a nerve with one reader or another.
Cover enough sensitive subjects, and we are certain to upset one person or another. It is not something we strive for, but neither is it something we can shy away from and still believe we are doing our jobs to the best of our ability.
So, yes. Sometimes we make people mad at us. We know there are readers who believe we cover some subjects too much and others not enough. Sometimes those readers let us know how they feel. More often, they don’t.
We don’t mind the criticism. We wouldn’t last long in this business if we did. But too often small-town newspapers have a reputation for being the Polyannas of the journalism world: focusing on good news to the exclusion of anything that would rub someone the wrong way and serving always as cheerleaders and rarely as critics. We believe on balance our pages contain more good news than bad, but we also believe we cannot shy away from the bad when it is there to be reported.
I guess what I’m asking is, the next time you read something in this paper that really gets your blood boiling, stop for a minute and think of Ben Franklin’s message.
If that doesn’t work, imagine how ridiculous a turkey would look on the back of a dollar bill.
Maybe it’s because I was out of the country the year most students in my high school studied American history, or maybe I just never paid much attention, but until last weekend I knew next to nothing about Franklin’s role as a newspaperman. He did not publish the country’s first newspaper, but his Pennsylvania Gazette, which he founded after ending an apprenticeship with his older brother, James, is, according to Infamous Scribblers, Eric Burns’ history of the beginnings of journalism in America, one of the first respectable publications in the country.
I mention this because, according to Burns, Franklin published an essay in 1731 that does a pretty good job of defining the role of newspapers from the Washington Post to the Farmington Independent. He intended it, he wrote, to be “a standing Apology for my self.”
As quoted in Burns’ book Franklin asked those who disagreed with or were angered by something he printed to consider the following:
“1. That the Opinions of Men are almost as various as their Faces….
“2. That the Business of Printing has chiefly to do with Mens Opinions; most things that are printed tending to promote some, or oppose others.
“3. That hence arises the peculiar Unhappiness of that Businesss ... they who follow printing being scarce able to do any thing in their way of getting a Living, which shall probably not give Offence to some, and perhaps to many; whereas the Smith, the Shoemaker, the Carpenter or the Man of any other Trade may work indifferently for People of all Persuasions, without offending any of them….
“4. That it is unreasonable in any one Man or Set of Men to be expected to be pleased with every thing that is printed, as to think that nobody ought to be pleased but themselves….
“8. That if all printers were determined not to print any Thing until they were sure it would offend no Body, there would be very little printed.”
In other words, Franklin told his readers that if they read his newspaper long enough he was bound to make them mad. The same can be said of this newspaper. At least, I hope it can.
Maybe I should clarify: It is never our goal to make our readers angry. That would be irresponsible and unprofessional. But with so much happening around us we are bound to touch on some sensitive subjects.
Our readers, we hope, have opinions about things like the site of the new Farmington High School or the superintendent’s contract or the state of business in downtown Farmington. And while we believe our news reporting is free from our own opinions and as balanced as possible, there are bound to be items that hit a nerve with one reader or another.
Cover enough sensitive subjects, and we are certain to upset one person or another. It is not something we strive for, but neither is it something we can shy away from and still believe we are doing our jobs to the best of our ability.
So, yes. Sometimes we make people mad at us. We know there are readers who believe we cover some subjects too much and others not enough. Sometimes those readers let us know how they feel. More often, they don’t.
We don’t mind the criticism. We wouldn’t last long in this business if we did. But too often small-town newspapers have a reputation for being the Polyannas of the journalism world: focusing on good news to the exclusion of anything that would rub someone the wrong way and serving always as cheerleaders and rarely as critics. We believe on balance our pages contain more good news than bad, but we also believe we cannot shy away from the bad when it is there to be reported.
I guess what I’m asking is, the next time you read something in this paper that really gets your blood boiling, stop for a minute and think of Ben Franklin’s message.
If that doesn’t work, imagine how ridiculous a turkey would look on the back of a dollar bill.
Friday, May 05, 2006
Large and in charge
I understand that at six feet, six inches I am taller than the average person.
It’s hard to get asked on a nearly weekly basis if you play basketball without starting to suspect something your dreams of becoming a jockey are best put behind you. Although, for a long time I convinced myself as I wanted to believe people were seeing in me some as-yet untapped natural athletic ability. It’s an thought few people who have ever seen me perform an athletic activity would understand.
I don’t typically think of myself of tall. It’s not until I get right up next to other people that it occurs to me, hey, I can tell whether they’re starting to go a little bald on top.
I don’t know that being tall has ever really been good for much beyond guaranteeing I can always reach things on high shelves or have a good view at concerts. Mostly, it’s created challenges. Over the years I’ve gotten really good at ducking. And it’s always been hard to buy clothes. You try finding a pair of pants with a 38 waist and a 36 inseam. It’s like looking for a four-leaf clover or the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow or the real O.J. killers.
Still, for years I’ve resisted shopping at so-called big and tall stores. I’m not sure why, exactly. I guess I just didn’t like the idea of being singled out to shop at a special store just for abnormal people like me.
Lately, though, I’ve been looking for a new sportcoat. As near as I can figure, I need a 46 extra long, another size that does not exist in nature. After a few fruitless attempts, I decided it was time to give the big and tall world its opportunity. Approaching the store, located in a perfectly nice-looking shopping center, I started to feel like I should be wearing a trenchcoat and sunglasses and looking around to make sure nobody recognized me.
I should have known the store would be trouble the minute I walked in. The first thing I saw was a shirt that, while it seemed stylish, would have been big enough to power a competitive America’s Cup yacht or get the Kon Tiki across the Atlantic. There were pants big enough to serve as windsocks at most major airports. It quickly became clear the emphasis in the typical big and tall store rests much heavier, so to speak, on the first part of the name than on the second.
Extra wide seemed to be a much higher priority than extra long in the sportcoat section, and the selection of pants appeared to start at a waist size of about 40 inches. In the big and tall section at JC Penny I found a pair of pants with a 54-inch waist and a 30-inch inseam. Outside of Humpty Dumpty, I have no idea who those pants would fit.
I’m starting to worry there might be a problem with obesity in this country. Has anyone ever looked into that? It might make a good subject for some kind of investigative report.
I’m not sure what to make of my first big-and-tall shopping trip. My circuit of the store didn’t last more than five minutes, so I didn’t have much chance to form a strong opinion beyond, “Who are these people and why don’t they eat more salad?” I’m not sure whether I should feel good my uninformed opinion of big and tall stores fit so neatly with my slightly-better-informed opinion or bad because even the stores that claim to be made for me can’t even come up with my size.
Mostly, I guess I’m just glad I don’t need pants with a 54-inch waist.
It’s hard to get asked on a nearly weekly basis if you play basketball without starting to suspect something your dreams of becoming a jockey are best put behind you. Although, for a long time I convinced myself as I wanted to believe people were seeing in me some as-yet untapped natural athletic ability. It’s an thought few people who have ever seen me perform an athletic activity would understand.
I don’t typically think of myself of tall. It’s not until I get right up next to other people that it occurs to me, hey, I can tell whether they’re starting to go a little bald on top.
I don’t know that being tall has ever really been good for much beyond guaranteeing I can always reach things on high shelves or have a good view at concerts. Mostly, it’s created challenges. Over the years I’ve gotten really good at ducking. And it’s always been hard to buy clothes. You try finding a pair of pants with a 38 waist and a 36 inseam. It’s like looking for a four-leaf clover or the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow or the real O.J. killers.
Still, for years I’ve resisted shopping at so-called big and tall stores. I’m not sure why, exactly. I guess I just didn’t like the idea of being singled out to shop at a special store just for abnormal people like me.
Lately, though, I’ve been looking for a new sportcoat. As near as I can figure, I need a 46 extra long, another size that does not exist in nature. After a few fruitless attempts, I decided it was time to give the big and tall world its opportunity. Approaching the store, located in a perfectly nice-looking shopping center, I started to feel like I should be wearing a trenchcoat and sunglasses and looking around to make sure nobody recognized me.
I should have known the store would be trouble the minute I walked in. The first thing I saw was a shirt that, while it seemed stylish, would have been big enough to power a competitive America’s Cup yacht or get the Kon Tiki across the Atlantic. There were pants big enough to serve as windsocks at most major airports. It quickly became clear the emphasis in the typical big and tall store rests much heavier, so to speak, on the first part of the name than on the second.
Extra wide seemed to be a much higher priority than extra long in the sportcoat section, and the selection of pants appeared to start at a waist size of about 40 inches. In the big and tall section at JC Penny I found a pair of pants with a 54-inch waist and a 30-inch inseam. Outside of Humpty Dumpty, I have no idea who those pants would fit.
I’m starting to worry there might be a problem with obesity in this country. Has anyone ever looked into that? It might make a good subject for some kind of investigative report.
I’m not sure what to make of my first big-and-tall shopping trip. My circuit of the store didn’t last more than five minutes, so I didn’t have much chance to form a strong opinion beyond, “Who are these people and why don’t they eat more salad?” I’m not sure whether I should feel good my uninformed opinion of big and tall stores fit so neatly with my slightly-better-informed opinion or bad because even the stores that claim to be made for me can’t even come up with my size.
Mostly, I guess I’m just glad I don’t need pants with a 54-inch waist.
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