In 2000, Robert D. Putnam published “Bowling Alone,” a study using the demise of bowling leagues over the past decades as a barometer for Americans’ declining sense of community.
That central air conditioning has done more than its part in killing off the old neighborhood model is widely unappreciated.
I came to this conclusion a couple of summers ago while visiting my sister in Salt Lake City. Returning from a day of shopping, she pushed the button to open the garage door when we were halfway down the block and then quickly closed it right behind us. We unloaded the car and settled into the kitchen without laying eyes on even one neighbor. We had dinner in cool, air-conditioned, mosquito-free comfort while my brother-in-law grilled on the back patio, still not interacting with even one neighbor.
It made me a little nostalgic for days when we were kids and nobody had central air. On summer nights, everybody on the block adjourned to the front porch after dinner to escape the heat. The adults chatted over fences and the kids ran amok through the neighborhood, the only rule being to head for home when the street lights came on. Now, central air has lured everyone indoors and we no longer let our kids run wild in the streets.
When I was growing up, it was the women who knew the neighbors. After the morning housework was done, they’d sit out in the yard and watch the kids and visit. It seems that it’s now the men who are friendlier with the neighbors because they’re more likely to be outside — they mow their lawns and rake their leaves and in the winter they compete to see who can rev up the snowblower first. Now the women come home from work and whatever they do after that, they seem to do mostly inside. There are almost never children around.
In older neighborhoods, things are a little more like they used to be. My building is vintage 1966 and central air didn’t make the amenities list. Instead, we have wall units that efficiently cool a radius roughly 3 feet into the room and run your electric bill into the stratosphere. So when the dog days of summer come, we don’t run inside to beat the heat, we run outside.
We move out to our balconies and chat over the railings like fishwives. We hit the streets after dinner and wander around admiring the architecture. Kids run through sprinklers and dogs trot out to greet you because, as every dog knows, one more friend is always a good thing to have and you never know when someone will be carrying treats.
Of course, there’s a downside to living in the old neighborhood, too. By September, the lack of privacy begins to chafe and you may well discover that you don’t even like your neighbors and wish they’d just go inside and close the door. If they had central air, they probably would.
Life has changed a lot since the days when men left for work with their lunch pails in the morning and women hung the laundry on the line in the backyard. Now we have more aggravation. We spend more time on the roads commuting to work, driving kids to and from activities, running errands. The feng shui of the subdivision — attached garage, privacy fence and central air — is designed to give the occupants a little peace and quiet after a long day. Newer neighborhoods have outdoor options other than walking around the block. They have greenways and paths where dog walkers and joggers exchange pleasantries. And today our social circles are just as likely to be the people we know from work as the people who live next door.
But I still think that air conditioning has isolated us from the people on the block. It makes it a little easier not to make the effort to get outside. And though life is a little more physically comfortable, it’s also a little less emotionally satisfying.
Marcie Morin (iluvaroadtrip@comcast.net) lives in Denver.
