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Earlier this evening I was recounting to an acquaintance this horrible childhood experience I had called "Frost Valley." It was a children's campsite about 45 minutes away in extreme rural New York, and in 5th grade, I was forced to spend three (3) days and two (2) nights there with the entire 5th grade class of Arlington Elementary school. He blinked his eyes in astonishment and said, "they did that back then too?" He explained that he's a counselor and every late spring his sessions with school kids are bi-weekly, hour-long descriptions of feeling helpless and scared and being unable to breathe. "Yeah," I nodded. "That's because it's terrible." Somehow, knowing that generations after me remember Frost Valley with chagrin made me feel better, and it made me think that maybe a support group would be a good idea.
So, Dear Reader: 
Have you ever been dragged along to a site in the wilderness with questionable toilets (outhouses) alon…

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