The reading room

Being Frank, by Frank Ameduri

Jeremiah said, "It's no great shakes as a magazine, but it makes for decent bathroom reading." I could see his point.

"I don't see how you guys can read in there at all," Tracy said. It seems bathroom scholarship is largely a male characteristic, though I do know some women who will peruse a paperback in the powder room. But almost every man I know is a regular restroom reader. In fact, if you're a man, there's a 22 percent chance you're sitting in the bathroom as you read this very column. Doesn't bother me. I'm just glad I could be of some help.

This is not a philosophical study of the phenomenon of bathroom reading. I could no easier answer Tracy's question than I could explain why I breathe or why I have an occasional craving for good, Italian cheese. I just do. The important thing about bathroom reading is not that we comprehend why we do it, but only that we learn to do it well. That's what this column is about.

The first step to productive bathroom studies is getting over the guilt. Look at it this way, those potty puritans who pout and shake their heads at the thought of porcelain-enhanced education, are simply wasting valuable time. While we're multi-tasking and rounding out our knowledge bases, they're just sitting there being bitter and feeling inconvenienced. Celebrate your quest for knowledge. Proudly display your bathroom reading material on a little shelf or in a neat little wire basket near the throne. Just be sure to update the selection from time to time as a courtesy to your bathroom reading guests.

The second step is to ensure that you've got quality bathroom reading material selected and neatly placed within an arm's reach of the seat of knowledge. You don't want to be halfway to the event when you realize there's nothing to read on hand. That's when you'll find yourself grabbing something off an end table or out of the kindling box as you pass by. That's how you end up reading a sales flyer or a phone bill in the bathroom, and that's no fun and not much in the way of educational, either. If you make it all the way to the bathroom before you realize the reading rack is bare, you'll end up reading a toothpaste box or the back of your deodorant stick. Everybody will know of your bad planning the first time you halt a conversation by listing the active ingredients in mouthwash or the contact information for Proctor and Gamble.

You'll develop your own preferences, but I find the best bathroom reading material is something that's light enough to put down and come back to, or something with short segments -- like a book of quotations or funny limericks … that sort of thing. Sports magazines are perennial favorites, and you'll really impress your friends if you have the most current fantasy sports mags on hand. If you're going to leave the fantasy magazines out, it's also nice to leave a pad and pencil nearby, so you or your guests can jot down some quick draft ideas if needed. I'll admit that I'd never look at some magazines anywhere but in the restroom. When you're in the quiet of your own little library, however, there's nothing wrong with picking up a copy of Cosmo, Women's Day or something of that sort. The articles are light and entertaining, and you'll get a leg up on the latest tricks and techniques women are using to get us into compliance. Some of the stuff in those magazines is a bit strange and unnerving, but they can also be a powerful tool. A word to the wise about women's magazines, though: Do not lift any flap on any perfume advertisement.

The last thing is, be able to admit when you have a problem. If you sit down with this month's edition of Utne as the evening news begins, and make it out just in time for the weather, you've probably got a problem. Ten minutes is a reasonable amount of time for bathroom reading. Once you hit the 20-minute mark, you're risking serious health issues. If you're tempted to leave something by Tolstoy in the bathroom, seek help. Other than that, don't let anyone guilt you about something that's as natural for men as drinking out of the milk carton … just kidding, Honey.

Frank Ameduri did not put the Ladies' Home Journal in the bathroom at work -- but he did read it.