All Wet

My house, like myself, is aging. Built in 1978, it is considerably younger than I am but is nonetheless solidly in middle age. It calls for significant repairs about as often as I do. You never know what will go next but something will. Sometimes I can handle the issues myself, which keeps the cost down to the materials (and some aches for me). I have rebuilt exterior wooden stairs, repaired retaining walls (both RR tie and masonry), reroofed the barn and shed, and so on. We all have our limitations however. I don’t do mechanicals: for plumbing, electrical, furnace repair, AC maintenance, and the like, I call professionals.
 
This week the problem is a shower leaking through the floor into the ceiling of the finished basement below. Word of advice to anyone who rates functionality over esthetics: don’t build a fancy expensive tile shower. Be cheap and install a fiberglass shower. It is seamless; it doesn’t leak; when it’s installed you’re done. Regrettably, my parents (whose house this was before it became mine) had different views. They chose tile laid over a lead pan. In fairness, this old-fashioned construction technique lasted their lifetimes, but it hasn’t lasted mine. No tile is actually 100% waterproof. Water will get through the grout. This is why there is a lead pan (or other water resistant materials) below the floor tile. But water eventually can defeat this too through corrosion or deformation. My shower has problems with the pipes, faucets, and the pan. A contractor has examined the shower and will get back to me with a cost estimate this coming week. His number, whatever it may be, definitely will be followed by three zeroes.
 
Despite my current trouble and upcoming expense, I like showers in principle. I rarely opt for a bath instead and on those rare occasions wonder why I did. Besides, I typically have to shower off the soap film afterward anyway.
 
Who invented the shower depends on your definition of a shower. If you count waterfalls it wasn’t invented at all, but I think most of us mean something artificial by the term. Some ancient Egyptian art shows wealthy folk having pitchers of water poured on them by their servants, but I don’t think this counts either. The first recorded legitimate showers – with running water piped to outlets overhead – were in ancient Greece as adjuncts to the public baths. The Romans picked up on the idea; many of their public baths had them. Showers disappeared in the Middle Ages, however, primarily because of the lack of running water; aqueducts and other Roman-era water works had fallen into disrepair and disuse by then.

Showers despicted on ancient Greek
pottery. I like the literal shower heads.

The modern shower – like so much of the modern world – was invented in the 18^th century. Englishman William Feetham designed and patented a mechanical shower in 1767 that was operated by means of a hand pump. The water source could be either a tank (as in the patent) or a well. It was clever, but the device didn’t really catch on. Most people don’t want to work that hard when washing off. Running water, whether public or private, was what was missing. This became more common over the next century, however. By the 1880s the day of the “rain shower” in upscale homes had arrived – no hand pump needed. It was usually combined with a tub though dedicated showers did exist. The final key ingredient was hot water. Heating a tank of water and tying it into home plumbing is an obvious idea, but early 19^th century designs (some of them coal or wood fired) were dangerous and messy. The first practical and (reasonably) safe home water heater was designed by Philadelphian (originally Norwegian) engineer Edwin Ruud in 1889. It was a gas-fired water heater not much different from many gas heaters in use today. Electric heaters came along in the 20^th century including tankless ones that don’t store water but heat it as needed.
 
Today, hot showers are a luxury we tend to take for granted – until we don’t have them. Due to current house guests and bathroom locations, the only shower available to me at the moment (other than the leaky one) is in the summer bathroom, which is primarily a changing room located off the porch; this bathroom doesn’t have hot water, which makes using its shower a perky experience. I’m not looking forward to writing the check for the shower repair, but I am looking forward to a less startling temperature when it is again ready for morning duty.
 
 

Chicago - An Hour in the Shower