The "Porch Culture" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Wondering when the last time you might have sat on the front porch and chatted with your neighbors.  When I say "front porch," tell me what your mind conjures up!  I'm guessing your answer may include a mention of chilled sangria, a swing, a lounging dog, and the scent of hydrangeas.  Most of us, it seems, hold shared thoughts about the idyll of front porches and the pleasure of killing time there as a breeze rustles the nearby branches.  We do so love - and romanticize - porches.  Whether we actually use them as they are intended is another matter.  But I'll get to that in a minute.  Originally, porches had a singular mission: provide a space that shields home owners from the sun while allowing them to enjoy the outdoors.  Mind you, this relates to the late 1880s, before we had air conditioning.  Or cars.  Or, for that matter, large screen TVs on which to watch The Bachelor.  We tended to stay home, with few option in the way of entertainment.  It was regarded as a sign of status to laze prominently out on one's porch where others could envy our privilege.  Seriously.  Even today, I hear people mooning over their long-ago porch-sitting days, although I figure most are embroidering their memories.  It was a "comfortable perch from which to become a contented observer - to savor what is sweet about home," a writer recently reminisced in Southern Living magazine.  Surely true.  It was also a place to get eaten alive by bugs unless you had the luxury of screens.  For a while, porches were in fact associated mainly with the American South.  Not so much anymore.  Since they can be part of various architectural styles - Victorian, gothic, farm-house, colonial - porches are now popular almost everywhere.  The last U.S. Census found that 65 percent of single-family homes built in 2020 had a front porch.  Typically, builders' fanciful literature will boast that a porch enables you to engage with neighbors - ostensibly one of their most charming features, but only if you like your neighbors. Many of us aren't eager to chit-chat over a wall with the folks next door, who for all we know are eyeing our Chinese takeout.  Of course, these are outlier.  I don't know any of its members, but an organization  called the Porch-Sitting Union of America has a quarter-million of them who are devoted to - well, you know.  My personal theory is that most porches nowadays are cherished chiefly for their aesthetic appeal; they don't get sat on often, or maybe not at all.  Annette Bopper, administrator of the Porch-Sitters Facebook page, told me that, at its core, "the porch is really a state of mind."  Among its main  virtues, Boprey said, is that "it's a place for passing along family wisdom." Which is a very fine thing if your childhood ws a very fine thing.  For my money, one of the best users of porches today is seen in Porchfest, which began in Ithaca, New York, and has spread to more than 100 towns across the U.S.  It's generally a lively one day affair during which amateur musicians perform for porches scattered around town.  According to Andy Adelwitz, co-orgainzer of the Ithaca Porchfest, "It's a celebration of the artistic community.  It's a celebration of the artistic community.  It's democratic, not curated.  It includes everything from kids choirs to metal groups to banjos.  And it goes on, rain or shine."  So, it has come to this: the porch as American bandstand.  Hurrah!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.