Having lived in various parts of the country, from as far west as California, to Michigan and Ohio, no one community makes me shake my head, wrinkle my eyebrows, and drop my jaw in the way that Midwestern Illinois living has. In my area, neighbors use the garage as an extended living space. And since the weather is turning more Spring like, there appears to be a big push for the best-looking garage on the block.
That’s right. The garage is a living space, filled not with cars…because why would you waste such a good space? No, the garages in my area have big screen televisions hung on the Harley Davidson painted drywall with surround sound speakers in every corner. You’ll find poker tables lined with red or green velvet and rolling, cushioned chairs for comfort. There’s always a place to store the propane or charcoal grill during the daytime but it must get rolled out after work with locked caster wheels so not to descend down the declined driveway. Fire pit. No problem. Keep it in the driveway next to the painted Adirondack Cubbies chairs, (White Sox if you’re into to that sort of thing).
And while you’re utilizing your extended living space, why not throw the kiddie pool full of cobwebs and spider eggs onto the front lawn. The kids will love the fifty-degree hose water on a hot summer day while barbecue chicken and smoking oak chips waft through the air.
Now let’s be honest. Sometimes the mosquitoes are a little too unbearable and the county truck hasn’t driven by blasting Deet chemicals into the air yet. Well, no problem. Many of my neighbors have magnetic screens attached the garage door frame for easy bug control. Play poker. Watch tv. Keep the bugs out. Perfect.
I know this must sound like I’m making fun of a particular lifestyle, but realistically, it’s simply not how I grew up. The extended living space is a culture adjustment that has made me realize something far more profound. Living in the front yard offers a different sense of community than anything I’ve experienced in the past.
Where I grew up, the cement driveway led twenty feet past the house and up and into the garage. I don’t recall off-hand having friends with attached garages. They held cars and yard work equipment like a lawn mower, snow blower, shovels, and various tools. To be fair, the door was the indicator whether someone was home or not. Door’s up, car in, people home. Come on in and visit. The door closed meant do not disturb or not home. So, yes, we too had our eyebrow raising cultural community separate from those Californians.
Here in corn and soybean growing Illinois, the neighbors might enjoy barbecue’s and birthday parties, and afterwork relaxation in the garage, but maybe more importantly, the neighbors know each other. Isn’t it homey? To know that you’re outside enjoying a beer and the ball game is on the big screen, when a neighbor shouts from across the street, “What’s the score?” All of a sudden there is a new-found sense of comradery, of simply being friendly.
I don’t plan on changing my ways any time soon. My family enjoys the backyard, filled with a pool, a firepit, an outdoor patio set, and a cushioned seating area. We’ll occasionally throw a game of Shoes or sit in the swinging hammock and read a book. The garage stays closed, keeping the cars out of the weather and the power tools safe. Unfortunately, I don’t know the neighbors’ names and we don’t share a beer while watching the game but…Hmmmm. Now that I’m thinking about it, maybe they do have the right idea.