I’ve always read a lot of history. At some point in my teens I read about Lyndon Johnson’s battle with the executive shower in the White House. Dissatisfied with the wimpy water pressure, LBJ had the plumbing ripped out and replaced four times until the shower power was to his liking. The plumber recalled LBJ roaring, “If I can move 10,000 troops in a day, you certainly can fix the shower!” After the fourth try, a Secret Service agent in a bathing suit tested the water pressure and was knocked against the wall. (A few years later, Nixon was elected; he had everything torn out and the shower returned to normal.)
All of this gave me the idea that fixing a shower was a major undertaking.
The shower in our master bathroom has always been a faint sprinkle. The water pressure was inadequate to rinse shampoo out of my long hair. (One could barely rinse a toothbrush.) Therefore, for fifteen years, all of us, except DH, have taken our showers in the other bathroom. DH is remarkably unfussy and also has very little hair to rinse.
However, at Christmas our friend Gary stopped by with a present for me. He’d been doing some plumbing at his family camp and had a nice used showerhead left over.
It had never occurred to me that I might simply change the showerhead.
I stopped at the hardware store and picked up some plumbing tape; I stopped at my farm workshop and picked up a wrench.
The old showerhead.
The pipe prepped with teflon tape.
The new showerhead.
Time for the repair: 15 years and five minutes. Thinking of you, LBJ! Thank you, Gary!