Hyde Park's most famous showerhead. (Photo by Jason Smith)
Photo finish
A former Core model finds a new home.
I’ve got to get rid of that showerhead in my desk, I thought yesterday. I had to buy it for the photo shoot for “Admit One” in the Winter 2012 Core. The ancient brochures I borrowed from the Admissions Office (and still haven’t returned—sorry, Evan Cudworth). The Play-Doh canisters and badminton birdie I borrowed from my kids. The neurotically chewed pencil I borrowed from my colleague Katherine Muhlenkamp. (“Whose pencil?” executive editor Mary Ruth Yoe wanted to know. “I thought I was the only one who chewed my pencil like that.”) The bust of Plato, sculpted for the occasion by designer Aaron Opie, now graces editor Laura Demanski’s desk. Which left the showerhead. So I listed it on UChicago Marketplace, of course: The University is on spring break (which is partly why I have the time to be cleaning extra showerheads out of my desk), yet in less than 24 hours, the listing had been viewed 76 times. Three of these curious viewers requested the showerhead, including Erik Z, who emailed me a mini-essay on his plumbing issues, excerpted below:
“I'm interested in obtaining this ‘famous’ showerhead. You see, my current showerhead and I don't agree upon much. For example, it'll sometimes like to sharply spray me with cold water on certain days, and others it'll sprinkle me like a regular showerhead should, but given my animosity towards ‘economics,’ I've decided to tolerate it... Sometimes I have to resort to hitting it (yes I literally bash it) because water won't come out. I suspect it might be a pipeline problem but alas I'd like a [free] showerhead rather than go to Home Depot and ponder about which expensive showerhead (none which are as famous as the famous alumni picture showerhead one) to purchase... Let me know if it’s still in your possession before someone else returns from break and takes it."
Indeed, Erik was correct—I had promised the showerhead to someone else already, and she was out of town. Desperate to acquire this precious object, she offered to ask her roommate to collect it. But as anyone who lists items on Marketplace knows, buyers can be unreliable—especially if the object is free, and you’re just leaving it behind your front stairs for someone to swing by and pick up at their convenience. So what will become of Hyde Park’s most notorious showerhead? Stay tuned.