On the Porch

One of many, many things I admire about my older daughter is her ritual of taking time each night to sit on the front porch. A beer in hand, a heat lamp on and wrapped in cozy blankets when it’s cold, a shady spot when it’s hot, this is her routine no matter what else is happening in her life. Of course, it’s an age-old tradition, especially for families whose house actually had front porches. Such a wonderful idea, either before or after dinner, to just take a moment and let the day settle, to decompress and just exhale into the approaching night. 

 

It's at once a strategy for solitude and sociability. If the neighbors walk by, why, of course, it’s proper to say hi and exchange a few words. Even occasionally invite them to join you. Just a simple way to just say, “Here we both are, alive at the end of another day and preparing ourselves to face—or revel in— another.” 

 

I didn’t have a front porch growing up in New Jersey, but I did have a front stoop and as a teen, spent many a twilight sitting on my steps with my cat Zorro purring on my lap. Neighbors did pass by and I greeted them. (Imagine that!! A teenager saying “Hi.!”) Of course, this was mostly a summer pastime and there was the extra bonus of fireflies lighting up the night. 

 

But I’ve never had a front porch in all my adult California homes. I did have back decks and when the weather permitted, we’d eat out there and occasionally just sit to greet the approaching night. But facing matters and it’s not as sociable with no one passing by on the sidewalk. 

So honoring my daughter’s tradition, here I am with my cold IPA beer, Malik indoors working on his 50-page novel about his cats and Zadie doing some inexplicable mathematical designs on her computer using words I barely comprehend (vertice?). After three days of non-stop rain, the sun came out in time for Malik’s morning soccer game and wasn’t that a pleasure? (The sun, that is. The game was okay, but after holding steady behind 2-1 for most of the game, the other team scored four goals in the last two minutes!). 

 

Malik quickly got over it, because I decided to pay for 60% of a new bike as an early birthday present. Portland always impressed me the way kids left their bikes out on their front lawns and Malik did so as well until someone stole it. (So much for the Portland paradise.) So he has been bikeless for some months and I decided it was the perfect time to get him one. And I did! When we got home, we rode together a bit around the neighborhood (me on Zadie’s bike). 

 

The sun is setting and I’m about to take them for a farewell dinner. Mom comes home tomorrow and I go back to San Francisco’s apparently perfect weather. So off tonight to the Kennedy School restaurant, a delightful place I actually stayed in once! It’s a converted elementary school, the hotel rooms are old classrooms with blackboards and cloak closets intact, the old cafeteria is a restaurant, the old auditorium is a movie theater. Delightful!

 

And to prove my point, a neighbor kid rode over on his bike to see if Malik is home and they’re off around the block on their own, like 10-year-olds should be able to be. No neighbors walking by, but I’m savoring my beer and the dying rays of the sun. It is such a simple thing to enjoy the gift of a human life and such a maddening thing when so many make it so difficult. And for what?

 

Maybe Congress should end each day on the front porch together, sitting with people they’ve been arguing with, enjoying a cold beer or soda water and chatting with the citizens passing by. Why not?

 

PS Just to be clear, there are many, many things I admire about my younger daughter as well. But she didn’t make it into this piece for one simple reason— she doesn’t have a front porch!