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Outhouse blues

Being familiar with that little square wooden building at the edge of the yard makes me appreciate modern plumbing, but it does bring back memories of my youth. Having been raised, or reared as some folks call it, in the country gives one a different perspective on the morning constitutional.

I vividly recall our outhouse — or privy, if it needed a more dignified name. However, looking back, I don’t recall it looking too dignified. It was a wooden structure made from unusually wide oak boards and measured perhaps five feet by five feet with a narrow, hinged door. It had a concrete floor and a slanted tin roof.

If my memory serves me correct, it was a two-seater — or a two-holer, as they are commonly called. I never could understand the need for more than one hole.

In any event, I found that most privies were situated under some sort of shade tree, for obvious reasons. Did you ever go into a privy in midday in

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