Yet Another No-No for the Socially Correct: Flushing

The soggy days of the March Miracle are a distant memory; somebody has set the Los Angeles thermostat to the setting marked Equator: July .

The issue of water-use restrictions is poised for a big charge, perhaps even big enough to temporarily interrupt the trauma that has gripped the city since that stunning wedding postponement of Kiefer Sutherland and Julia Child or Julia Roberts or whoever it was.

And while the drought is certainly affecting the lives of the regular folks--dead shrubs, lawns that are starting to look like Mickey Spillane’s head, etc.--there is something curious stirring among the wealthy and beautiful.

Some of them are making, well, a sacrifice of great note in the name of conserving water. Of course, rich people don’t have to make any such sacrifices. A slight water-use penalty to a guy whose driveway is home to a pair of those $150,000 Ferrari Testosterones or whatever they’re called isn’t likely to make him storm the Hutton office and slap E. F. around.

But conserving water can be a matter of social consciousness.

A statement.

And so, in some of the poshest parts of Los Angeles, inside houses that would be used as city hall or converted into the high school gymnasium in most towns in America, this is the sound that is starting to be heard around the bathroom:

Slam (sound of door closing), thud (sound of toilet seat being raised or lowered), creak (sound of bathroom door opening).

Didn’t hear the sound of the toilet flushing, did you?

Of course not.

Because Not Flushing The Toilet has become, in some circles, the very latest thing to do, following in the footsteps--often footsteps made by reptile-skin shoes--of Not Eating Grapes and Not Wearing Mink.

Anyway, at a recent and extravagant party at an opulent home in Pacific Palisades, a home with views of the Pacific Ocean on one side and the Santa Monica Mountains on the other, guests were requested not to flush after each use.

Now, it seems virtually everyone is skipping a flush now and then within the privacy of their family. And not flushing is also OK in many of L.A.’s other social circles, where the problem is usually solved by going in the back yard. But at this party, that seemed a bit out of the question, as the 100 or more guests were dressed in tuxedos and sequined gowns and didn’t appear to be the types to do anything in a back yard, never mind that .

So a sign was placed in the bathrooms by the hostess. The sign did not , as you might guess, read There’s a Water Shortage So Don’t Keep Flushing the Damn Toilets, OK? It simply pointed out that the residents of the home were actively practicing water conservation in an attempt to nurture the stricken California environment through its difficult times.

The signs were then placed on the toilets.

Anyone not getting the point of the message would likely have been too dense to have found the bathrooms in the first place.

As you might also guess, the society barons and baronesses who have fervently joined the No Flush crusade aren’t real big on discussing the situation with a giant newspaper. For although it is a decent enough attempt at saving some of the West’s precious water supply, no one wants to be singled out as the House Where They Don’t Flush the Toilets.

A few comments were given, grudgingly, under the condition that names and addresses did not appear with them.

“I think everyone is doing it. Our friends all say they go the whole day without flushing the toilets,” a Pacific Palisades woman said at the door of her house. A big colonial house, by the way. With a white wrought-iron fence around it.

“It seems to be everyone’s way of helping during these times. It’s not the water bills or surcharges or anything like that. It’s just one way we have of helping.”

Another woman, a woman in her 30s with a rock the size of a sports car headlight on her finger, talked about the issue while shopping at the Beverly Glen Market Place in Bel-Air. She talked reluctantly.

And very softly.

“Everywhere I’ve been in the past several weeks, that has been the case,” said the woman, who gave the distinct impression that the places she has been definitely do not include any professional wrestling events.

“I have seen some signs in the bathrooms at friends’ homes, asking to conserve water.”

OK. But how about the very idea of not flushing? Isn’t a bit, how shall we word this . . . gross?

“For me, personally, yes it is,” said the woman with diamond. “But as it becomes more common, as more people see it as the correct thing to do, it will become more acceptable, I think. It is, after all, helping the environment.”

And, if it eases the anxiety of the rich, it should be noted that such a practice is not new and not restricted to Los Angeles or California or even the United States.

The origins of not flushing can be traced to Europe.

The French even have a word for it.

Latrine.