From the Seinfeld episode “The Shower Head”
Kramer, Newman and a ‘salesman’ are at the back of a van in an alley.
Salesman: All right, I got everything here. I got the Cyclone F series, Hydra Jet Flow, Stockholm Superstream, you name it.
Jerry: What do you recommend?
Salesman: What are you looking for?
Kramer: Power, man. Power.
Newman: Like Silkwood.
Kramer: That’s for radiation.
Newman: That’s right.
For close to 15 years, this scene wasn’t funny for me at all. Because the Seinfeld episode – where Jerry, Kramer, and Newman suffer from pathetic low-flow showers – hit too close to home.
When I lived in my childhood home, I was spoiled. I didn’t think twice about the quality of our showerhead.
My wake-up call began in college. The dorm showers provided a pitiful amount of pressure. But I didn’t pay much heed – no appliances were top-tier in the building.
Then, when I lived in Florida and later Colorado, I realized the bitter truth:
Most showers suck.
It’s not just limp pressure. The designs are lousy. Even with showerheads that offer your choice of setting. Water can hit you with a needle-like singular spurt. No thanks. Or drizzle on you from a ring, like you were planted in a delicate flower garden.
My frustration grew because I knew a real shower’s potential. Where water sprayed you so evenly, over such a wide surface area, that it felt like a dense fog was pushing you. Instead of raining down on you, the water enveloped and danced over your skin. Like a blanket of mist.
I ordered fancy showerheads from Amazon. 5-star reviews gushed how great they were.
Meh. They never quite lived up.
What surprised me most, was my childhood home’s unassuming shower nozzle. It didn’t flare out to the size of a dinner plate. Instead of seven different spray settings, it featured only a button to cut off the flow.
Sometimes, I’d try to convince myself I was idealizing the past. Until I visited home and its spray greeted me like a warm blanket, fresh from the dryer.
I’d never experienced anything like it elsewhere… except… a cross-country trip when I stayed at a Super 8. Much to my shock, they somehow almost captured the essence. But that was only a fleeting caress…
For almost 15 years, I wondered. And searched.
Until, during a visit home for Thanksgiving, I asked my mom where she got that showerhead. Within mere minutes, she showed me a link to a local hardware store’s website.
I purchased one. A few days after I returned home, it arrived in the mail. For some reason, I hesitated to make the switch. Maybe I didn’t want to face more disappointment. But, after moving apartments and bringing the new showerhead with me, I knew it was time.
As soon as I screwed it in place, turned the water on, and stuck my hand into the blast… I knew I’d finally found it.
Since then, instead of languishing in a cold, damp room while tolerating a small section of my body getting rinsed with water… I’m transported into a vibrant vortex of cleansing mist.
All from a humble showerhead. Here it is: