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Suburban living was designed with the middle class in mind. The flight of the affluent to neighborhoods outside of large metropolitan areas started happening after WWII and steadily rose as both crime and corporate salaries rose to new highs. People wanted a place to raise children. The goal was to get those children an education that would allow them to be even more successful than their guardians. City became second to Suburbia. The Suburbs, where one could enjoy the finer things in life (i.e. backyards and a place to park) while still being a short drive away from the crime and large minority population that drove these [mostly] white European descendants out in the first place.
I never appreciated how nice my parents house was until I moved into my dorm room for Freshman Orientation. Constantly surrounded by people. Communal bathrooms. A roommate who was nowhere close as tidy as I wanted him to be. Yes, living in a dorm was cool for about three weeks. And then it got old. Sharing a room, sleeping five away from someone else, it was all too much for me. I was ready to move into a house my sophomore year.
I’ve been renting apartments or rooms in houses since I was 20 years old, and although the last apartment I rented in Chicago was certainly not the worst place in the world, it was definitely not the nicest either. I dealt with rat infestations, a landlord who ignored requests for fixes on leaky pipes, and a building that was falling apart. By the end of my first year in Chicago, I had killed something like ten rats with glue traps. Those things are fucking medieval, and I don’t even want to get into the details of how I dealt with rats who had gotten stuck on their back. Suffice it to say I’m a regular Charlie Kelly when it comes to murdering rats and mice.
The amenities one gets when they move back to a parents home for, say, a week like I am doing, are endless. There’s always a plethora of fresh fruit and awesome food lying around. It’s not an exaggeration to say that my mom goes to the grocery store every single day. I think that must be a mom thing because I swear she goes to the grocery store some days and doesn’t even buy anything. Just enjoys being around the fresh produce and what not. But do the comforts of your parents house outweigh the cons of well, going home to live under the same roof as them? In my case, I think they do. If this was a long-term deal where I had to live with them for more than a week I think I’d lose my mind.
So I’ve been at my parents house for three days now. Other than watching new episodes of Bloodline and Peaky Blinders, I haven’t really done a whole lot. When I leave the comforts of the air conditioning and endless premium cable options, I’ve made it a priority to be in the sun. I have a wedding coming up this weekend that I need to look good at, so any excuse to get some melanin is welcomed. What I’ve noticed whilst people watching from my porch is something that I hadn’t even thought about before – Suburban neighborhoods are adult dormitories.
Think about your freshman year dorm hall. You guys probably had floor meetings once or twice a semester and within a few weeks, you knew who was weird on your floor and who was tolerable enough to invite to a pregame in your dorm with that sick Bob Marley poster. Other than people constantly hooking up (maybe every marriage in my parents neighborhood is like Real Housewives and everyone is fucking each other) a neighborhood has a lot of the annoyances that came with college dormitory living. Anyone who grew up in a neighborhood knows that your parents had certain couples they hated down the street and certain ones who would get invited over for drinks on Saturday night. The only difference now is that everyone in the neighborhood has money. Instead of Burnett’s, it’s a Woodford Reserve Manhattan. Instead of a Bob Marley poster, it’s an Ansel Adams picture framed and a wall with pictures of the kids graduating college.
Remember those mandatory floor meetings at the beginning of the semester? Well, I don’t know much about Home Owners Association Meetings, but I imagine they’re pretty similar to when the R.A.’s introduce themselves and make sure everyone knows the rules. No loud noises after 10 o’clock. No illicit drug use. And checking in visitors for the weekend is absolutely the equivalent of letting the HOA know that you’ll be having a large party with several vehicles on the street. I love my parents neighborhood, but is putting up a facade 24/7 really worth it just so they can say they live in a nice neighborhood?
If it was me, I’d choose to build a house on a hill, with no neighbors and a winding driveway that lets drivers by know I’m not to be trifled with. But I don’t have a wife. Or a girlfriend. So I’m sure if I ever do get married, that house on the hill dream is going to be dashed in favor of a large Colonial squeezed in between The Berkowitz’s and The Johnson’s. One can dream, though. .
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jduda@grandex.co
Whenever I mow my lawn or work in my yard, my two Polish neighbors (one across, one next door) make it their duty to force me to drink beer. Like, I love beer, but maybe not at 10AM on a Saturday when I’m just trying to get the lawn mowed so I can take my kid to ballet class. Okay, yeah, we’ll do one. Jesus, no don’t take the top off the secon– okay, I’ll have that one too.
“He gon do one!”
It’s melanin you fucking Visigoth.
I’m starting to think that being an editor at Grandex is just a Mafia no show job.
I’ve never heard anyone use Visigoth as an insult before. I wish I thought of it.
So you’re a webcam girl?
And life is basically just an overpriced virtual reality Grand Theft Auto video game but you can’t do like 90% of the things that game allows you to do.
yes you can, just don’t get any stars.
If you do get any stars, just steal a jet and fly really high for like 30 seconds. Should do the trick.
I can’t argue with you about what your parents neighborhood is like, but I don’t think this is a universal thing. I’ve lived in a pretty typical suburban neighborhood my entire life and everyone pretty much minds their own business. You only have to interact with people if you chose to. It’s no house on a hill, but it’s certainly not like a dorm.
Agreed. My parents neighborhood everyone kept to themselves for privacy. After all those years I still couldn’t name most of my neighbors- and I’m glad.
I’m on the top floor. Sometimes I dance around on my kitchen floor or drop a stack of books for fun. Hippies who live below me deserve it anyway.
Jesus, I thought you were meant to be amongst the people. All us common folk. Or is your living on the top floor a symbol of what our sacrifices and joyously spreading the word of God can one day become ours? Either way, I go in peace to love and serve the Lord.
You shall be richly rewarded, my son.
I’m so bored at work I might go through all of Johnny D’s columns to see how many times he informs the loyal PGP readers that he lives/lived in Chicago.
Every single time.
I’ve always though it would be hilarious reality TV to take two 48-year-olds and make them live together in a college dorm room for a semester.
I’d watch this, which college would be the worst to stay at is my question.
The idea is to get like 16 people – 8 male, 8 female so you have four sets of roommates for each sex. They have to go through the whole process – I’m talking about filling out forms asking your taste in music, are you a night owl, what’s your major, etc. so they get paired up wit the “best” match. This is the first episode and they call each other on the phone to figure out who’s bringing what and have that awkward conversation about how excited they are to move away from home. Husbands and wives are given the option to break up with their high school sweetheart, i.e. spouse, or try to make it to Christmas without cheating. However, and I’m not flexible on this, we need one legit attractive and single lady to be a participant so some lucky guy gets to live out his milf fantasy. As for school, I can’t decide if we throw ’em to wolves at ASU or FSU, or send them to some really shitty state school like Kentucky (no offense, but it seems like that school fucking sucks). We all then sit back and relax while all the women get hit on and the fat, out of shape dudes stare at college girls while they sweat their ass off playing pick up bball against the younger competition. I just want to find joy in the suffering of others as they try to relive the glory days. I can’t imagine the recovery time for a near 50 year old after going out for dollar pitchers on a Tuesday when the special doesn’t even start until 10:00 pm. Talk about some hangover scaries, in a dorm room no less.
This is gold. There would have to be some research, but I think the ideal place would be the biggest party school in the shittiest location. They would get run down at ASU or FSU (shit, I probably would), but they would at least have the reprieve of good weather.
WVU it is!
That’s the right call.
This should be done at UCSB. One week in Isla Vista should help them get their priorities straight. Bonus points if they make it through Halloween
I enjoy ‘dro and guns way too much (but not at the same time – shoot safe, kids!) to ever be bound by an HOA. I refuse to give up on the “house on a hill” dream as well.
Sometimes I wish I grew up in a neighborhood. Growing up on a farm didn’t lend to having many friends at a young age.