Le Duche Magnifique

Since childhood the shower has been a sanctuary. Set apart from the pandemonium of household affairs soothed by the steady, rythmic pelting of water. No cares for the pretenses of society (clothes and hair styles) i could sit and bask in true humanity. With the exception of trips to orphanages in Mexico, I have never had to pay a modicum of attention to water pressure. Even in the Bohemian days with a group of guys in a home with archaic plumbing, I still had some water that spurt through the moldy shower head.

So, when I first jumped into our shower here in Denver and was met with an icy trickle, my heart sank and found myself submerging into a sort of exiled depression. Missery surrounded and defined my showering experience. No more could I lay down or sit, but i had to stand, tip-toed up to the dribble and lather myself rotisserie style, one side at a time. The water side usually was being scalded by the erratci and slow changing temperature, while the other froze; quite the lunar experience.

There came a point where i lobbied the shower. these were my more ripe days. Biking to work everyday durring the initial summer months caused some drama on the aroma front. i finally conceded to baths. quite to my suprise, i found i thoroughly enjoyed the immersion. I picked up books i needed to finish, read articles, or even sunk my ears beneath the water where i could hear as clear as day, our neighbors music. I enjoyed the likes Pete Yorn and Broken Social Scene on many occasions. The delimma with this was that the use of soap was prohibitted. Once soap was used, i sat in silty, scummy water worse off than before. I either had to turn on the godforsaken shower, or empty the tub, then stand freezing and soapy, until it filled back up; rinse, then drain again. Even then i was not able to remove all the residue of soap, not to mention a huge waste of assets and time. The advent of an aggressive beast crawled from under arm pits, ears, and worse, my dwindling scalp. Bathing, for the first time in my life, became a laborious endeavor, dreaded from days break to days end.

It didnt bother either of us much. we got used to the smells eachother had and, in a wierd way, began to find solace in them. Yet there remained in me a void that subconciously was causing me to lapse into depression from time to time. There was never an escape. its not the stench of a showeless life that burdens me, its the claustrophobic tension that cripples my faculties.

When I came home from work today our landlord had done some long needed work on our unit. I ran to the shower and threw the water on and found a charge of water so strong i could pressure wash with it. Immediately stripping into my most beautiful state, i jumped in and laid down, absorbing the solace and comfort of a well functioning shower.

Amen. Gracias Dios por nuestra ducha. Cuanto la amo! no es que sea muy importante, no obstante, es una gracia de que me disfruto muchisimo en esta vida. De nuevo, senor mio, gracias. Amen.