WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE FRONT PORCH ?

            "Form  follows  function.'
                   Frank Lloyd Wright

       Or, at least I think that it was Mr. Wright who uttered that architectural edict.  How something is used determines its shape.  Is that what he meant?  If so, then that can go far in explaining why few new houses have the almost 'sacred space' that was once a mainstay in this region . . . the front porch. On our block there are four houses with a stoop (or place to stand while waiting for someone to answer the doorbell). Six have what (with much generosity) can be called a 'porch', though none have those requisite staples of a 'real' front porch . . .   a swing and rocking chairs.

     We spent a few hours with my brother's family this afternoon. His porch has both swing and chairs. Unfortunately, Springtime  has taken a brief vacation and the temperature was too chilly for front-porch-sitting, swinging and story-telling. (Please, 'storytelling' in this context does not mean 'telling lies' but telling tales, many of them truthful, and told again for the 'first time'.)

    In my youth, I enjoyed "settin' a spell" on several front porches.  One of my memories from the early 1940's is of waiting in our swing to see dad come up our walkway from the cotton mill where he worked.  A few years later after moving to another town, I did a lot of Tom Sawyer and Zane Grey reading in another swing.  Sitting on porches at my maternal grand-parents and at dad's sister's , not only did I hear a lot of family stories but I also realized that I was surrounded by much love. 

    Perhaps it has been the overall pace and tempo of life that hastened the demise of the porch. Or, maybe it was the advent of air-conditioning.  It does get 'toasty' around here for much of the year.  Sometime in the 1950's or 1960's, dwellings in so-called 'developments' began to change in appearance.  And, our street is a microcosm of that shift.  "Form" really has been influenced by "function".

Joseph sharing his rocker with Hundley the Hound

 

A Porch is a perfect spot for Wedding pictures




Satchel    

. . . OPPOSED TO MILLIONAIRES ?

        "I am opposed to millionaires but it would be dangerous to offer me the position."  So Mark Twain allegedly confessed.
Me, too, Mark.

         It's the season for jumping . . . no longer for  college basketball brackets . . . but for the BIG bucks.  Living near National Championship Duke Blue Devils, as well as a couple of other schools with high profile athletic programs, I have seen  much in area newspapers and other media about the 'One and Done' phenomenon of freshmen declaring themselves for the NBA draft.  At least among the Division I schools, the basketball programs seem to have become the 'farm system' for the professional teams.  

     What would you do as a 19 year old if a million + bucks were waved at you?  But in some way, that rather begs the question.  So much for the euphemism 'student athletes'.  Increasingly, money (and lots of it), drives athletic programs.  And, the likelihood of that changing, well . . .   Rare, I suspect, are the Tyler Hansbrough's, the talented collegiate who will stick around for his senior season to pursue a National Championship. He did that a few years back in the face of much second guessing by pundits.  In his case, UNC did win the Big prize in his last year and he subsequently turned pro.

    All this likely reflects the values of the larger society.  One of my history professors once noted that 'Bread and Circuses' were all that remained in the last days of the Roman Republic.  Most folks like being entertained more than being a participant.  Intramural athletics will hardly replace intercollegiate competitions nor will many teaching faculty draw the compensation package of coaches.

    Nor will very many 'small school' players get a shot at the pro's.  
I attended a small liberal arts college and later taught at another in the area.  Saw some of the worst and best games ever at those places.  One of my fraternity brothers was a unanimous 'Little All America'.  To my knowledge, no subsequent contract was offered. However, at our class's Fiftieth reunion a few years back, he told us that he was still playing in a league composed of Seventy-plus year olds.  And during my teaching career, that school's team was usually mediocre.  Then, a few years ago, their team pulled off a dramatic come-from-behind upset over a perennial powerhouse for a National Championship.  While one of those men (I think) later played with the Harlem Globetrotters, most of them went into 'athletic oblivion'.

     In my 'career', I never faced the 'wealth decision'.  When our family moved to a new town prior to my Junior year in high school, I made the varsity.  Never having played on an organized team, I spent most of my time sitting on the bench, getting into already- won or already- lost games.  Did not score all season long . . . until the final game when we trounced a cross-county school 77-27 . (Such matters seem to have lodged in my memory . . . along with my 18 points in that game.)  As an undergrad, I played without distinction on our fraternity intramural team.  Well, there was that one game against the Pika's that I hit three consecutive what-would-now-be three-pointers.  They immediately put a strong man- to-man coverage on me and that was the end of the glory.

     Mr. Twain was a somewhat wealthy man for his time.  Wonder what he would say about all the money being paid today to guys who run around in their skivvies and throw a small sphere at hole ten feet above the floor .

      Satchel

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