Now here was a life experience.

We all know everyone goes to the bathroom. I remember a childnren’s book of that same name that was very popular about twenty years ago.

But frankly, this was no more apparent than when our contractors plopped a port-o-potty on our tree lawn.

For obvious reasons five to fifteen men per day could not share a bathroom with us. So our contractors solution — a portable toilet on our front lawn.

Little did we know then, that an outdoor toilet is nothing more than a magnet.

First there are the newspaper delivery folks, at about five a.m. every day — under the cover of dawn.

Second, there are the security guys. Lots of people in L.A. pay for the daily security patrols by their house — we’ll there’s a guy from Bel Air Security who really likes to go . . . around 7:30 every morning.

A little later in the morning is the time for the guys who drop endless litter (um, advertisements) on your front door. You know them, they get out of trucks very early in the morning — then paper your neighborhood with Sears ads or pizza coupons . . . .

Monday mornings are for those guys who go through everyone’s garbage and recyclables . . . .

Next are random kids walking by (who should be in school, by the way) — they seem fascinated with outdoor bathrooms.

Perhaps the saddest users are the homeless. There’s a guy who lives out of his minivan with his two children. Daily he would drive up, and do a whole morning toilette in there — then his two kids would do their thing . . . .

Frankly, it was an unexpected hot bed of activity. I never expected to hear that door open and close so many times a day. Nor did I think it would generate so much garbage, toilet paper rolls, reading material, the list goes on . . . .

Last week, I hit my breaking point. Frankly, I know everyone goes. I know there are homeless people out there. I know there are plenty of illegal aliens in L.A. — getting scooped up and dropped off by those work trucks early every morning.

What I didn’t need was to see it all so close up. L.A.P.D. police chief William Bratton is definately right about one thing. It’s easy to forget what goes on out there . . . if you don’t see it.