The Junto Walking Group acquired its name after a member of my regular walking group came across the word ‘junto’ and challenged me to use it three times in a sentence, as I had done previously for an unfamiliar word.
During my research, the idea of our becoming a junto group developed. I discovered that we would be following the illustrious footsteps of Benjamin Franklin, who founded the first junto group (from the Spanish junta, the word for assembly) in 1727, as noted in his autobiography, to “discuss issues of Morals, Politics or Natural Philosophy.” At each meeting, one member was to present a question to be debated without dispute, seeking only truth.
We could do that! In addition to catching up on individual news, we often discuss a wide range of topics, and amicably agree to disagree even on hot-button issues like politics and religion. Who knows what great philosophical questions we could discuss? I suggested, after meeting the challenge, that we follow these lofty goals on our weekly walks and thus improve ourselves in the pursuit of truth.
A member, who shall remain nameless, provided the first question: “Why, after almost fifty years of marriage, would a man decide that the toilet paper roll should be put on backwards? Not just once, by accident, but consistently.” This of course raised an even weightier question: “Which way is backwards?”
It should be noted that we did not spend our entire 90-minute walk discussing this. In fact, we resolved the issue in the last five minutes, with all members agreeing that it should advance over the top towards the user, not towards the wall on which the holder is installed. This was particularly sensitive for the member who posted the question, triggered by a certain awkwardness experienced while reaching towards the back of the roll in the dead of night. She noted that, being older, such washroom trips are, alas, not uncommon.
We were surprised to discover that the direction of the roll was a source of irritation for two members. When M—unmarried—asked if the husbands could be trained, there were looks of incredulity followed by laughter. One of the affected members mentioned herding cats, the other likened the concept to stuffing toothpaste back into the tube.
We quietly abandoned pursuing answers to the original question, but the discussion expanded—as deep philosophical questions often do —when P asked how many of us create a triangle point on the first square of the roll. The reaction to this was stunned silence, followed again by laughter. We agreed that, should we ever be guests in P’s home, the first person to use the facilities would expect this courtesy and would report back to the others.
This question, however, triggered my curiosity. My research revealed that the point of the point in hotels is to show that the bathroom has been cleaned. I fail to see how this proves anything other than that the cleaner knows how to make a toilet paper point, but the search led me into an even deeper rabbit hole. I discovered full videos on how to make a perfect point, one 8.59-minute video that was eight minutes too long, another short and to the point. I followed the trail to a whole world of toilet paper design. Who knew that you could create a leaf, a fan on top, a fan in front, a pixie stamp (many creative ideas here), a boat, a daisy, a rose, an elaborate bow tie? There are even designs for stacks of toilet paper, should you wish to leave them elegantly displayed in full view before being placed on the holder.
I could not resist hands-on practice. I am happy to report that, despite not being particularly crafty, I have mastered a simple triangle point. Fifteen seconds, folded and ready for the next guest. I have tested it on my husband who has not yet commented, or possibly even noticed, my efforts at toilet paper beautification.
The pixie stamp also proved remarkably simple, using everyday objects for the imprint. The bottom of a highlighter pen cap, for example, not only provides pleasing concentric circles, but also holds the triangle point in place. Moistening the stamp very slightly (it must, of course, be dry before the first use of the facilities) strengthens the hold. One video suggested using a small amount of lotion on the stamp instead of water. That would add a luxurious touch for the user.
But should I, now that I’ve mastered the point and pixie stamp, undertake other designs appropriate to my guests? Roses or daisies for fellow gardeners? A bow tie for a more formal gathering? A leaf for an autumn gathering? A fan for a hot summer day?
I am also troubled by more complex questions. I picture myself as the first guest to use the facilities in someone’s home, faced with a rose or boat or bow tie. I would have no choice but to destroy the design, but should I then try to create a simple motif for the next guest? And the most pressing question: Do I have an obligation to show my appreciation in some way? It seems crass not to compliment the host or hostess on the toilet paper origami, but tactless to do so in front of other guests who will have no chance to experience the thrill of using a toilet paper rose or boat or bow tie. Should I instead find a private moment to express my appreciation? In the absence of a different question from other members of The Junto Walking Group, I will suggest this dilemma for discussion on a future walk. All in the pursuit of truth.
Lois Hibbert is a long-time Toronto, Ontario, resident who finds that “What if?” questions lead her in unexpected directions for short stories and flash fiction. She also enjoys short memoir writing and creative non-fiction to record events and explore memories.