America is channeling her inner Billy Ray Cyrus lately. Our porches have adopted a mullet attitude: business in the front, party in the back. The front porch is for first day of school pictures and mailmen. It may hold a couple rocking chairs that are never sat in, but it never holds a party. No. Parties are for the privacy of the backyard or the back porch. Many houses don't even have a front porch, just a few steps and a door.
Our gatherings, like many of things in American society, have become intensely private. The "when" is private. Dates are often announced in advanced. Want to hang out this Thursday? The "who" is private. Often invitations are granted via texts. The "where" is private. My backyard. The one bordered off with tall trees or a fence. The one that is hidden to passersby. The one where we won't be disturbed.
There is nothing organic about this system. Unlike our parents' time, our hangouts are rarely open, spontaneous things. People don't "drop by" anymore. It's not like we're sitting on the front porch, ready to chat with those that are stopping by. The front porch makes us feel exposed. We crave the privacy and peace of either inside or the backyard.
Comedian Sebastian Maniscalco did a great stand-up piece on unexpected visitors now vs 20 years ago. He nailed the subject and it is equal parts roaring hilarity and sad truth.
He talks about the feelings (and actions) that comes when a doorbell rings. I seriously recommend watching the video to get the whole effect. His delivery is golden.
Twenty years ago, your doorbell rang, that was a happy moment in your house. It's called company... Watching TV, your doorbell rang, the whole family shot off the couch. "Oh my God! Put the lights on! Somebody's here! We got people!" The whole family went to the door... Nobody looked to see who it was.
He talks about how happy his family was that someone who was in the neighborhood just stopped by to check on them. To see how they are. That's old school community at its finest. He goes on to talk about inviting the company in for cake. His mom would tell his family:
Listen. Nobody touch this cake. This is for company. Those crap muffins? Those are for you.You better hope to God that somebody comes over so that we can cut the cake.
Then he fast-forwards 20 years to present day.
Now the doorbell rings, it's like "What the f---?" *shushes everyone in room* *signals for everyone to get down* "Get down, ma army crawl!"
Today, unexpected company is feared. Many a times I've been home and the doorbell rings. I freeze, become dead silent. Look around to see if the person at the front door can see me. It could be the 6-year-old next door asking to play, a Girl Scout selling thin mints or a door-to-door salesman. Either way, I treat it like the person is an ax murderer, who just happens to be extra polite by knocking or ringing the doorbell. I never really experienced the casual dropper-by that Maniscalco remembers so fondly.
This mullet mindset (business in the front, party in the back) is likely a combination of many things. Desire of privacy. Championing of the individual. Negative news stories (ex. scam artists knocking on doors). Either way, I think our homes are due for a haircut. Let's trickle back to our front porches, back to a time when we knew our neighbors and smiled at passersby.
