Having grown up in the South of my fair City, we had many a fun times during our Porch Parties.
Have you ever had a porch party?
Around 6:30 pm on many a summer evenings, as the sun was just slipping behind the acorn tree and down past the steeple of St. Margaret's Church on 39th street and Flad, all the neighbors seemed to migrate to our front porch.
It was a porch that was about 20 feet across the left front of our 3 story old house, wide enough for one to sit comfortably in a woven nylon lawn chair and prop your feet up on the limestone bench rail. About 6 steps pitching north off of the top tiled (like your bathroom floor in an old house) step. Then a flat slab of concrete 10 feet sloping away from the house from there with another 3 steps to the city owned sidewalk just before a grass easement to the again city owned poorly paved street that was one way heading due East. The rail from the front steps to the city owned sidewalk was one piece steel 3" round pipe. Perfect for the youngster that I was to do my single Even bar gymnastic routine each night.
The evenings persisted of straggling neighbors bringing their lawn chairs sitting in our grass around the said steps popping their aluminum tabbed top beverage cans, slipping them into a can cooler (koozie). Sitting and letting out a big sigh that the weekend was finally here and well deserved.
Plotting would go on. Float trips planned, 30th, 40th b-day party scenarios played out, kid war stories swapped (now mind you I was the youngster so I was always jokingly told to put my fingers in my ears and hummmm so I would not hear the war stories), bbq's planned and veggies shared.
It was so much fun. I miss those days. I miss the families in my old neighborhood.