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Niagara seniors need to campaign for 'the right to tinkle' too
© by Mike Keenan 
Last week, it happened quite suddenly, and there was nothing I could do about it. After all, it wasn't me but my father and mother who ultimately determined my birthday. However, the chronological age has now moved slightly closer to 70 than 60. This momentous occasion provides pause to reflect, so I engaged in a long walk along the trail beside the Niagara River. It runs from Niagara on the Lake to Fort Erie, but there wasn't the slightest idea of challenge that arose in my thoughts considering that considerable distance.
Some people get carried away on birthdays. They perform myriad momentous achievements. For me, there was no desire to scale Mount Everest or swim across the lake or eat 100 hotdogs. One daughter marked the advent of her thirties by engaging in an "Iron man triathlon," the ultimate test of running, cycling and swimming. I'm past iron man days, but the real reason that I find such tests impossible involves the washroom. Along the Niagara Parks trail, there are few washrooms, and much to my chagrin, when our April weather was so fine for walking, sadly, the public toilet near McFarland House was not open. What's a walker to do? I might have to move to Toronto. A new public toilet located at Queens Quay Boulevard and Rees Street opened last Wednesday. Cameramen clustered around the mayor as he cut a blue ribbon to inaugurate the German-made marvel with self-cleaning toilet seat and automatic floor washer. Why don't we have such wonderful devices in Niagara with our burgeoning aging population whose desire to tinkle often supersedes their ability "to hold it?" David Miller is my hero; if he ran for re-election in Toronto, I'm sure he would capture the entire senior vote. Public toilets are a serious issue. In Niagara, tourists and residents alike have to duck into pubs or hotels or find a sufficiently protective bush. Howard Moscoe, a veteran Toronto councillor, campaigned for what he calls "the right to tinkle." With aging demographics, he argues that many seniors don't venture out for fear of finding themselves out of range of a toilet. He asserts that as a senior citizen, he is tired of walking around with his legs crossed. Bravo! The automated public toilet, (APT) closes the toilet gap. You simply insert a quarter in the appropriate slot; an electric door glides open, and you enter a one-room chamber with stainless steel toilet bowl and sink. Soothing new-age music plays and a woman's recorded voice relays instructions. If you spend more than 15 minutes inside, a blinking light and a series of messages warn you that your 20-minute limit is nearly over. When you leave, it automatically retracts into the wall, where a scrubbing system cleans it for the next user while a power-washing system cleanses the floor. Debris is swept away for later collection. Water drains through the permeable floor. Wow! Politicians in Niagara take note. Want to pick up votes in November? Start advocating for APT's instead of promising cigars. And let's think outside the box here for a moment. (Pardon the pun.) Those twenty-minute babies sound like a viable tourist attraction. Forget about the journey behind the falls and the cable car and caleche rides. Seniors want to ride the APT! Twenty minutes for 25 cents. That's a deal. Add an ATM to the proposition and now you have the ability to make withdrawals as well as deposits. It's win-win-win. Bankers, tourism and seniors. Bring on the APT. The $400,000 price may seem costly, but the APT is "state of the art" with a security phone and heaters to keep us warm in the Canadian winter. Yes, the cost of this item is more than the worth of my house, but hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go. And I particularly like the idea of twenty minutes for reflection on how old I'm getting. |
