I remember going to my grandparent’s farm in Rogersville when I was growing up. It was out in the country, not a lot to do. A place that, as a kid, I had a hard time visiting because there was so little to do. Fast forward 30 years and it’s the kind of place I actually would love to visit to allow me someplace to go where there is very little to do. A place without everyday distractions.The one thing I dreaded the most about visiting the farm was the lack of indoor plumbing. Don’t get me wrong, I was like any young boy - peeing outdoors was a treat. It’s just how we’re wired. But if the situation called for a more involved relief session, that was troubling. Such situations would require a visit to the outhouse. Summertime was the worst. Not only were there snakes to watch out for, but the heat was next to intolerable. You didn’t do a lot of reading of the catalogs stacked along beside the, uh, receptacle. You took care of business, held your breath for as long as you could, then fled the scene.
You may be wondering what caused me to think about outhouses. I’m sitting here in the Dallas airport on my way to Las Vegas for a conference. Before boarding my plane to Dallas, I ducked into the men’s room beside of gate C5 in the Nashville airport. The bathroom beside C5 is worse than an outhouse in Rogersville on a sunny day in August.
Funny how memories get triggered sometimes…..
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