In the summer of 1969, I was working as a lobbyist for the AT&T Corporation in Washington. Ordinarily such work is limited to three years and I had been there on the order of three and a half years. So I was not surprised when the instructions from New York were that I should return to that city. I was more than happy in Washington but there was an inducement to coming back to work for the Long Lines Department in New York City. That inducement was the widespread belief that I would be promoted to the top labor job at the general headquarters. But those dreams were unrealized, as the top labor job went to a fellow from Nebraska.
When I returned to New York, I first became the General Sales Manager for the Long Lines Department at AT&T and then I moved to a much more pleasant job having to do with the provision of overseas telephone service.
When I first returned to New York, I of course needed a house to live in. There were my wife and two daughters, who were doing quite well in school. I looked first in the town of New Providence, New Jersey, which was my home when the call came to go to Washington. In the late summer of 1969, there were no houses available in that town. A realtor suggested that I should look at a property in Millburn, New Jersey because Millburn offered two essential advantages. One was the excellence of the school system and the second was that Millburn was on the main line of the Lackawanna Railroad which took me to Hoboken and thence to a ferry, and finally after a one-mile walk, to my office in lower Manhattan. And so it was that I bought this house, where I have lived for 41 years.
Almost directly across the street was a small house on a large lot at the corner. The house was owned by a widow who had eccentric habits. There were about two occasions when this widow, late in the evening, would cross the street and put her garbage into my garbage can. I figured that she was alone and maybe it made her feel good that her garbage was in good hands.
About seven years ago, the widow sold the corner property to a builder named Hank Santangelo. Hank set about tearing the small house down to be replaced by a much bigger structure. In the process, Hank discovered that, hidden in the walls of the house, was a small fortune. It consisted of approximately $5,000. I don’t know exactly where the $5,000 was hidden, but because Hank had clear ownership of the house at that time, he was entitled to keep the money. The widow’s eccentricities apparently had caught up with her.
But Hank was a very personable fellow. If I ever needed to have this house torn down, I would engage him to build its replacement. Hank constructed a magnificent building on the corner lot. In it he constructed five separate full bathrooms. I had expected that when the house was offered for sale, it would be sold to a large family. But that was not the case. It was bought by a couple from Summit, New Jersey who had only one child. Apparently the husband spent a good bit of time traveling. Now it appears that the child may be in a boarding school, so that the woman, named Vicky, is in this large house with five complete bathrooms. It may be that Vicky would have a bit of a problem trying to determine which of her complete bathrooms she was going to use. Now that Vicky and her brood have settled into the large house with the five bathrooms, he seems consumed with altering the interior of the house. Vicky is a pleasant woman but I have never questioned her as to why there was so much need for work on a house that was new.
The latest incident took place during the summer. Apparently Vicky and her husband had made the decision to go to radiant heating. And so it was that the radiant heater people showed up in two different trucks with a large contingent of workers to install the heating in the house with five bathrooms. They spent quite a while installing the radiant heating; and thoughtfully they had ordered an outdoor toilet while their work was in progress.
Curiously, while the work on radiant heating seems to be nearing completion, the outdoor toilet remains upon the front lawn of their residence. Apparently the radiant heating installation people did not feel welcome in any of the five bathrooms in that home. So they brought in an outdoor toilet. At this point I believe that it has been in place now for the better part of four or five months.
The rental of outdoor toilets must be a prosperous business. In a quick scan of the advertising on the internet, we find the following organizations offering outdoor toilets. One is offered by “Gotta Go.” A second organization offers said toilets under the heading of “Roll-a- Throne Corporation.” Then there is an offering by an organization called “Pointers and Setters.” You see that on the subject of outdoor toilets I am offering you some information that you never knew really existed.
Then there is the “Rent-a-Throne” and its companion, called the “Royal Flush Outdoor Toilets.” Also there is the “Call a Head Company” which is a play on the use of the naval term, calling toilets “the head.” And finally there is the king of outdoor toilets known as “Johnny on the Spot.” Outdoor toilets may be rented from a variety of concerns but I think at this point I have given you enough so that when you have a need, you will know where to look.
Now while the outdoor toilet has been in place on the lawn of the fancy house across the street, its use seems to be confined to those who are not involved in the radiant heating process. I am told that the postmen always stop by to use it. I have heard the people who cut grass say that they are going to use the outdoor toilet. Delivery men, such as the United Parcel Service, always seem to use the outdoor toilet when making their rounds. I suspect that if there were a fire, our firemen would use it as well before returning to the firehouse.
And so at this point I believe that I have told you about all there is to know about outdoor toilets. If the need ever strikes you that you need to use one, you can look up my address and come by to use the facilities on the lawn of the big house on the corner. It is only a one-holer toilet, which is a term derived from that era in our lives when we used outhouses. Whether it is a one-holer or a two-holer toilet is of small moment. When the need is great, a one-holer such as the one across the street will be a welcome sight. All of this supposes that you get to it before the postman, the grass cutters, and the delivery guys free it up so that it can be used by ordinary civilians.
E. E. CARR
November 20, 2010
Essay 513
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Kevin’s commentary: Who knew that the portapotty space was so competitive? And how cleverly-named they are? I suppose that because there are so many different ways to refer to a toilet, the array of toilet-related puns is rather broad. I would deem “Johnny on the spot” particularly inspired.
You may find an update on this toilet from 2011 here. It seems that it stuck around for quite a while.