In general, I don't have a problem with bathroom graffiti. I imagine it gives some folks a vague sense of importance or permanency in an otherwise shaky and unpredictable world. It also provides reading material while one is sitting on the toilet, and on rare occasions it can be pretty funny.
I captured this lovely sentiment in a public bathroom last year. What says "I love Jesus" better than scribbling on a bathroom wall in ballpoint pen? The smiley face caps it off perfectly. "He died for me! Yippee! That makes me so happy! Hooray for crucifixion!" AND someone agrees. Bonus.
This cheerful fellow was drawn inside a port-o-potty near one of my favorite trailheads on Orcas Island. I love the look on his face and the flower sprouting out of his head. Seeing him made my post-hike pee even more enjoyable than usual.
Yesterday was the first time I ever wrote on a bathroom wall. I was inspired by a sight my poor eyes have fallen upon maybe a million times in my life: a puerile sketch of a penis & testicles. And it was humongous. It took up an entire fucking wall.
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| I'd much rather see this. Or nothing. Nothing would be good. |
I thought for quite a while about how to respond. I considered simply erasing the drawing, since the bathroom walls were blackboards and doing so would've been easy. I thought about drawing giant fallopian tubes and ovaries over it. I also considered putting a big circle around it and then a line through it, or drawing an arrow to it and writing "I hate you." But I don't hate penises. I just hate having to see a million crappy drawings of them.
Finally, I took a piece of chalk and printed this simple statement very neatly under the picture:
I dream of a world with no cock & balls drawings.
Ahhh. Even just imagining the possibility fills me with happiness.
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| Oh, you know it. I'm well on my way. |
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