...I did get a lot of first-hand (so to speak) experience with an outhouse as a teenager.
When my Dad retired from the Air Force we moved back to rural Ohio to build a house on some of my Grandma's land. While we were building it we lived with my Grandma.
I was getting ready to head into high school. You know that song "Summer of '69" when all the kids were running around playing guitars until their fingers bled?
I was trying to survive no indoor plumbing or running water.
Her kitchen had a metal pump for water, a big 'ol wood-fired stove was how she cooked, baths and showers were taken at relatives or in a tin tub. And there was a two-seater outhouse by the barn.
I kid you not.
I thought I was going to die because nothing smelled quite as ummmm.... ummmm.... "ripe" as the outhouse in the summer. I thought that I had reached the pinnacle of misery. Being a teenager AND having to survive the outhouse in summer.
But then it got worse. Because we got to experience the outhouse in winter.
I remember waking up and burrowing out from under about twenty blankets to see my breath fogging the frigid air. The big dilemma was to try to hold it until morning or to choose the lesser of the two evils when that was impossible - the trip to the outhouse OR using the chamber pot.
I almost always chose the chamber pot.
Let me just say that to this day when I see chamber pots used in country chiq decor I still shudder. I see nothing remotely charming about them. One lady I used to know used one in the kitchen for bread storage. Needless to say I never ate a sandwich at that house.
When our new house was finally done and we moved in I actually used to get out of bed in the middle of the night just to pee...even if I didn't have to.
Wow, what luxury. What impossible luxury.
And today I read an article about the charm of outhouses, and how people in various states are even putting on "Outhouse Tours" so you can "enjoy" the experience.
Charm? Charm? What charm!!!!!!?????? Enjoy!!!??? ENJOY!!!!!!!?????? Pu-llleeezzze.
The only possible good that could come of an outhouse "experience" is ummm... ummm....
...well dangnabit, I can't think of any possible good.
Hmmm.... still thinking.
No...nothing. Not one teeny, tiny, eeny, weeny good thing at all.
Oh wait! I've got it!
Look at all the money I can save by not going on Outhouse Tours!