I just caught the ending of a little news blurb. The morning show hosts were happily touting the features of an app for next-door-neighbor-dot-something-or-other. It seemed to be a happy place where neighbors could share events, get to know one another, and give warnings when frightening people moved onto the street.
The host of the news program was carried away with it because neighbors no longer go to one another’s homes, never actually knock on the door, and this tool seemed really great in her estimation.
Well, here I go again … praising small town living. Yes, I’m a fan of the Internet. Yes, I love seeing my neighbors on Facebook. I see their grandchildren, their trips to the lake, and I know when they’re making cupcakes.
But nothing compares to a cool weekend evening, walking to the neighbors’ house carrying a covered dish, while the whole block is coming out of front doors doing the same. A beautiful night, sitting around picnic tables with that grand aroma of beef sizzling on the grill, friends sharing stories and laughter, reliving old memories, making new ones.
Long live the small town neighborhood. There’s not an app for that.
Sandy keeps an online journal at her website www.field-days.com. E-mail her at firstname.lastname@example.org.