Porch Sit [on KS Friday]

Quinn used to say that two things ruined western civilization: salad bars (serve yourself) and attached garages. “It all went south when we started inviting our cars into our homes,” he mused. To his list I might add air conditioners. Porch-sitting and the neighborhood evening promenade, with accompanying neighbor conversations, went away with the invention of cool indoor air. Imagine what we might be able to solve if we actually talked to each other on a regular basis. Imagine what nonsense might dissipate if we pulled our heads out of the television and, instead, strolled the neighborhood to see what was going on.

We look for porches. And, when we don’t have one, we create it. I knew I would be with Kerri forever because (among other things) she had two Adirondack chairs sitting in the grass outside the front door of her house. Early in out time together, we sat out front, sipped wine, and waved and chatted with people walking by. She’s dedicated to greater things than cold-air comfort.

When we travel, our airbnb’s almost always have porches. A porch is on the list of requirements. It never fails. The porches in our travels are always sources of good stories, special moments, new friendships. They are not magic. They were invented for peace and polite conversation. They are liminal spaces, both public and private. People wave and greet each other. People stop and chat – even for a moment. You can learn a lot about a new place by sitting on the porch and asking a local carrying a pizza where the good food is to be found (a true story). People like to share what they know.

As Skip reminded us yesterday, people write things on Facebook or other social media that they’d never say otherwise. I think there’s a lot of that going around these days. Forums for ugliness. I’m certain it’s nothing that a good porch and an evening constitutional couldn’t cure.

time together/this part of the journey is available on iTunes or streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blog post about PORCHES

time together/this part of the journey © 1997 kerri sherwood

Sometimes it is inconvenient to see all of life as a metaphor. Forever exercising the capacity to make the familiar strange and the strange familiar. Everything referential to something else. It’s no wonder people avoid me at parties!

A bar at the airport. Both the bar and the airport are liminal spaces. In-between places. Neither here nor there. Doesn’t this sound like the beginning of a detective story? Waiting for our flight at this gathering place of strangers, we decided to celebrate the beginning of our trip, some much-needed time off. A break from the grind. We ordered two glasses of wine. No sense jumping into space without sampling the airport’s finest red!

With multiple games of football playing all around us, awaiting the bartender to bring us our wine, Kerri asked me if I wanted to bowl. She was already placing the tiny yellow pins and blue bowling ball on the bar. Placing our wine beside the pins the bartender said, “Well, look at you!” Apparently we were not the first people to bowl at his bar.

I was first up. I rolled the ball. It hit the pins and bounced off. I caught the ball before it rolled off the bar. Now, as metaphors for my life go, this one is frighteningly accurate. Kerri cheered, “Do it again!” as if my direct-hit-with-no-result was intentional. My wife is hysterical. She pulled out her phone and set it up to record my ineffectual nature for posterity. I complied. I rolled. You can see the result. Kerri stopped recording before she howled with laughter. She packed up the pins before taking a turn. She promptly sent to video to many of our pals. “They’re going to love this!” she giggled.

Never, ever think that I do not serve a purpose on this earth, in this life.

In a world of metaphor, one pin falling is actually worse than no pins at all. It’s like a 25 cent tip or a 1 percent salary raise. Insult to injury. As Horatio would say, “Always the bridesmaid….” of course, it’s why people periodically sit with me at parties. Feeling good about yourself is often a product of relativity.

And, if all else fails, there is a healthy pour of the airport’s finest red. Have a good trip!

 

read Kerri’s blog post about BOWLING AT THE AIRPORT

 

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