'Out on the porch'

Tonight I enjoyed a beer on my porch, something I have waited to do ever since I signed my lease in January. Frankly, it has been something I have been waiting to do since high school.

Having grown up in Iowa City, seeing college kids enjoying brews on the porches of older homes around the downtown core, I have always wanted a front porch. I wanted to live in a four-square house and have an old, beat-up couch on the big front porch so I could enjoy nights and beers with friends. It almost happened when I was in college. At Apartment 12, in a powwow with Mervgotti, E-Tone, and CN, we discussed whether or not it was financially feasible to rent a house. I said, “If E-Tone can’t do it, I can’t.” E-Tone said, “Nope,” and I immediately followed with, “I can’t either.” And I couldn’t — until now.

(Somewhat lamely, Mervgotti and I even had a “porch couch” picked out: an old couch his parents kept in the basement. We used it at Apartment 12, but Mervgotti eventually got rid of it for some reason. Bastard.)

When we looked at our place last winter, the first thing our landlord did was emphasize the porch as we entered. “It’s a high porch,” he said. “You can have a Hayden Fry high porch picnic.” I had no clue what he was talking about at the time, but Hayden Fry: A High Porch Picnic was the title of Hayden Fry’s 1999 book. (Apparently, “high porch picnic” is a Texas expression for a good time. Go figure.) Regardless, it is a porch and I will enjoy it as much as I can.

Though I said I would christen the porch last night, I did it tonight instead. (I was dead tired last night. Sweet Meat’s couch destroyed me.) I sat in one of our Adirondack chairs and sipped a PBR. It was cool and moist, almost fall-like. The street was quiet and dark except for the crickets and cicadas. It was beautiful.

(In case you are wondering, the post title comes from the Mr. Rogers sample at the beginning of People Under the Stairs’ “Acid Raindrops.”)