Where do we commune these days?

We, like most middle income  families in America, have multiple ways to stay in touch.  I can update 70 friends and family members with a simple post to Facebook.  My son, with the same post, would reach over 200 of his closest friends.  With my phone, I can talk, text or email almost anyone I've ever met or tweet with millions of strangers.  In many ways, we've never been more connected.

Today, I did something I hadn't done in ages.  I sat in a friend's living room and visited.  We talked face-to-face for several hours without having any sense of the time that had passed.  Besides sharing stories of our pasts, we talked a little about our frustration with our attempts to spend quality time with a group of friends.  After much conversation, I boiled the issue down to one of location.

Living in a major metropolitan area has it's benefits if you are willing to travel, across town, to the suburbs, into downtown.  What's tough is finding a place that is convenient to just sit and visit.  We have structured most social events around food and drinks.  Getting together for dinner or happy hour can be fun and filling but it doesn't lend itself to just chatting.

Getting to know someone and really connecting requires time and attention.  As a told my friend, you need to be able to share upcoming plans and then have the follow-up conversation.  How was that movie?  Did you enjoy your vacation?  Have you finished that book you were reading?  These are the conversations that would happen around the kitchen table or over the back fence forty years ago.  Today, to gather in that relaxed setting requires planning and travel.

We couldn't even think of a public place to meet for conversation.  The local Starbucks might work if there are only two or three gathering.  If its four or five, maybe not.  Libraries have meeting space but local budgets require that a fee be assessed by the hour.  It's hard to have a casual conversation while watching the clock and your wallet.  Whole Foods has space but it feels pretty institutional and open, not conducive to sharing.

I would love to have people in my home.  Unfortunately, I live in a gated apartment complex at the top of three flights of stairs.  This has proven to be an obstacle to casual gathering of any kind.  What I really want is for my friends to live in the same neighborhood,  if not on the same block.  I want to walk next door to borrow a cup of milk.  I want to sit on my front porch and have the neighbors, my friends, stop by to just sit and share the evening.  I don't want to drive thirty minutes or thirty miles to just share a glass of wine before turning in.  I want my friends to be able to step into their kitchen to show me the new seasoning they found for Chinese food.  I also want to be able to say, "It's time to go," without production,  packing or calculating the  drive time.

Just like Rascal Flatts, I miss Mayberry.