A fading skill

Last August when my friend and I visited London, we located a restaurant/pub two blocks away from our hotel, so we walked over there to try their "fish and chips." We were surprised to see the sidewalk in front of the restaurant full of people standing there drinking and visiting, and the throng wrapped around the the building. We almost turned around and left, but then we had no idea where another eating establishment was located in the area, so we decided to try to find the end of the line.

Turns out, it wasn't a line to the restaurant. People were just standing outside the pub to be able to smoke while they drank, or to drink with a friend who smoked, or to just stand around and visit outside. And we saw that again and again-- especially at the end of the work day. The drinking and smoking didn't impress me, but the fact that they were all enjoying conversing was refreshing to see. I don't remember seeing anyone with their face stuck in their cell phones texting in the eating establishments and pubs. Conversation was alive and well in London.

I fear we Americans are quickly losing that skill, especially with the younger generation. I rarely see teenagers and young adults without earbuds and their total attention glued to their cell phones. When family comes to my house, the television is usually on and half of us are either on our laptops, iPads or cellphones instead of having meaningful conversations.

My grandparents had a big back porch that was used regularly. I remember sitting out there shelling peas with my grandmother while we visited. My grandfather grew the best tomatoes in the sandy soil in Live Oak County, and each morning he would go out and pick several baskets full and display them on the porch for people to buy. They lived miles out of town so people had to make an effort to get there. But the sale usually involved conversing a while before they left. Every evening after supper my grandparents would sit on the porch, and often friends would drop by to visit. I remember how peaceful it was to sit there and watch the birds and listen to the sounds of pasture out behind the house and to just talk with each other. The porch was just as important as any other room in the house.

For years I told my mother that I wouldn't need the use of a shrink if I only had a porch to sit on and think things through or visit with family and friends. And now we live in a house with two big porches in the front and back of the house. Family visited this past weekend, and we actually sat on the front porch after supper Saturday night, leaving our electronic communicating devices inside, and we opened our mouths and talked.

It felt so good.

My niece Jenna took this picture; everybody else was on the other side of the camera at the time.

This is my favorite place to hang out with the grandkids.