This school year our family is represented in three different levels of public school education. 10 year old is at the top of the heap in elementary school, he’s in fifth grade, the Big Five! Mom continues to inhabit the halls of her middle school, perpetually happy in 7th grade. Isn’t that ironic, considering I was absolutely miserable as a 12 year old 7th grader. And, my 14 year old is making his debute in high school.

One thing we all have in common is that we are spending our days in school buildings that are actively under construction. I enjoy a nice Capital Project as much as the next tax payer, but this is a little ridiculous. My workplace is an active construction site, complete with workmen in hardhats, wires hanging from ceilings, concrete dust, and parking lots that have been fenced off and filled with 18 wheelers and dump trucks. Our students are bussed to another school for afterschool activities. Buff construction workers build the additions to our building during the school day, and only enter the educational areas after the students have departed. I’m not sure anyone would consider this a super learning environment, but I can tell you that the teachers and the students are making it work.

The best First Week of School story I have occured at the high school. Not having received any transportation information about how to get kids to the HS, a neighbor and I agreed that she would drive the kids to school and I would pick up the duo at dismissal. So, the first day I had to pick them up I dutifully arrived on a side street and made my way to a parallel parking spot to await the sauntering students. The sidewalks were teeming with teens. It was drizzling. My son and his friend were unsure of my ability to be in the right place at the right time because I had never negotiated this pick up process before. So, like a good mom, I parked, got out, and stood by the car, looking up the sidewalk towards the school. This is the same approach most parents took to picking up their kids from middle school. Lots of parents huddled in groups at the middle school. They chatted while they waited for their kids to swarm out of the building and make their way down the sidewalks. I didn’t have anyone to chat with, but I sure wasn’t going to let my kid get by me.

I soon learned that I’m not a middle school parent anymore. Things are different at the high school. As I stood there, trying to look casual, looking at the wave of too-cool pubecent persons walking towards me, I hear a low street-smart voice along side of me, “Get your ass back in the car, bitch”.
Hmmmmm, okay.
Look casual.
Lean on the car.
Try not to look phased.
Then, after enough time has passed to allow smart-ass teen to pass by a few other SUVs and uptight parents . . .
I get my ass back in the car.
You don’t have to tell me twice.

Side note: you have to really pay attention if you want to people-watch on Vestal Parkway. I did an unofficial survey of passing cars and learned this: lots of people talk on their cell phones while driving fast on the parkway. Shocking, I know. Out of 68 cars that passed in a few minutes, 19 drivers were visibly holding a cell phone up to their face. Who knows how many were wearing a cockroach in their ears (more commonly known as something like a blue tooth, but since when does a normal human have a blue tooth the size of a lipstick protruding from their ear????) Anyway, the people who think the Parkway is dangerous should just hang up and drive.

Back to the “Oldies, but goodies!” So there we are celebrating, and doesn’t Stuart have a funny story about feeling old. I was thinking, grey hair? tried to go UP the DOWN escalator at Boscovs? forgot where she parked her car at Target? Wrong on all counts. Turns out she needed to escort a family member to the Harford Fair to perform in a music event. Knowing about this several weeks in advance, she had plenty of time to prepare. Part of her preparation took the form of worrying.
Get to the fair grounds at 9am.
Performance at 11am.
We are talking hours here, people.
Local fairs are home-grown events that usually take place in wide open spaces (great song title by the Dixie Chicks) and often do not have the comforts of home. Aahh, now I see . . .

Where is a girlfriend to use the facilities if she must say adios to the green tea and water she has consumed during her morning routine? In your thirties, this isn’t so much an issue. But, pop out a kid or four, waive goodbye to 40, and suddenly your bladder is not your buddy. Listen up youngins! When that ob/gyn says do your kegels after delivery, DO THEM! Even so, when you turn the corner into your 40s, those muscles get a little sassy and don’t always cooperate. Your best defense is to medicate (lame asses do this) or plan accordingly (healthy women choose this option because who needs to take drugs, as Stuart pointed out).

Anyway, Port-o-Johns are called Johns for a reason. Easy to manage “draining the weasel” if all you have to do is unzip, aim and fire, boys. But, what about a real lady like my friend Stuart here? I have several friends who would rather have their eyeballs turn yellow than darken the inside of a port-o-stinky. I personally am not one of these women, I’ll pee anywhere, anytime, with only a square to spare (excellent Seinfeld reference, hope you got it).

Now come on, you know this is an issue. Stay hydrated and healthy and drink at least 8 glasses of water a day, right? It’s good for our skin, right? Everyone wants good skin, but who has the time to make all those trips to the little girls room? Who plans there day around where they are going to be able to pee at a moments notice? 40-something women, that’s who!!! I personally can identify the cleanest gas station bathroom in Greater Binghamton: Mobile Station on Riverside Drive. Newest public potties: Rails to Trails, Home Goods End. The best port-a-potties: Box seat ticket holders get to use them at BC Open, fancy trailer with wood paneled individual stalls, porcelain bowls, and a variety of soaps, towels and decent elevator music to cover up unfortunate but natural sounds that accompany peeing! Best restaurant potty: Tony’s in Endicott, if the Italian lessons audio tape is running and the toilets are not. Best school potties: District Offices in Endicott, where the best orange fragrance shoots out automatically every time the door opens. I make extra tinkle trips while I’m there, just to smell that orange smell, really, I do!

What about Stuart? Oh, yeah, so, what does Stuart do? She worries. Maybe family member should drive self to event and she wont have to cross her legs all morning in the fields of Harford. No, not her style. She decides on the more high maintenance but equally effective solution to her dilemna: she goes without the basic necessities of life, morning caffeine and water, and heads to Harford without sustainance, dehydrated, and with a relatively empty bladder.

After dropping off family member to set up for performance she visits the animal stalls and was mildly entertained by being in close proximity to quadrapeds who reproduce on farms. The pigs were lovely, the sheep were wooly, enough said. More importantly, she spots the most attractive and sought after display at the fair, at least for the over-40 set . . . a real brick and mortar bathroom. Yes, stalls, doors that locked, flush toilets, and sinks with soap and running water. And, wait there’s more. A nice lady was sweeping paper towels off the floors and freshening up the bathroom as Stuart entered. A real human was in attendance in the bathroom, and we were 2 1/2 hours outside of NYC! Wow! NYC has nothing on Harford! This lady had no basket sitting on the counter for your donation and in no way looked like she may withhold a hand towel if you didn’t slip a single into her basket. Stuart was so happy!

I have never been to the Harford Fair despite having lived in Upstate New York for the last 16 years. However, thanks to Stuart’s “Old” story, I’m marking the third week in August on my calendar for next summer. I’m there. Us over-40 girlfriends have standards, you know. And, with a little help from each other, I think we can probably ignore less friendly events, such as the Spiedie Fest where you wait in line to use the tp-lacking Aqua Blue port-o-stinkies that line the RV display, and head straight to Harford, where they hold the Over-40-Friendly Fair.

Happy Birthday, Stuart! (Can’t comment on Starbucks potty, because we both ran home to use our own!)