Front Porch Living in Anytown USA With Kramer

 

One of my favorite Seinfeld episodes contains an unexpectedly good lesson about neighboring.

In Season 9, Episode 3, “The Serenity Now,” Kramer gets an old screen door from George’s parents and decides to install it outside his apartment. Of course, Kramer cannot simply put up a screen door. He transforms the hallway into his vision of small-town America.

There are lawn chairs. Flowers. Wind chimes. An American flag. Even a barbecue grill.

Kramer calls it “Anytown, U.S.A.” 

Suddenly, an anonymous New York apartment hallway has become a front porch.

And Kramer loves it. He waters his flowers, talks about mulching the azaleas, plans a barbecue and greets Jerry with a cheerful, “Hello, neighbor.” 

For someone who spends a lot of time thinking about neighboring and the importance of front porches, I find the whole thing hilarious.

But then Kramer discovers something important.

You cannot have the benefits of neighborhood life without also having neighbors.

The Front Porch Changes Everything

The front porch has historically served as an important space between private and public life.

Your living room is private. The sidewalk is public. But the porch sits somewhere in between.

When you sit on a porch, you are making yourself available. You can wave. You can say hello. You can learn a name. You can notice when someone needs help. You can have the little conversations that eventually become relationships.

In his own ridiculous way, Kramer understands this. He does not just want a screen door. He wants the feeling associated with a front porch—the breeze, the flowers, the casual conversations and the sense that you live among people who know one another.

That is actually a pretty good picture of what I call "See and Be Seen," the first step in becoming an Engaged Neighbor.

Connection often begins simply by being visible and available.

Then the Kids Show Up

Unfortunately, Kramer soon discovers that “Anytown, U.S.A.” includes children.

And these particular children are not interested in admiring his azaleas.

A baseball comes flying his way. His flowers are damaged. His door gets covered in shaving cream. Eggs eventually fly toward his little suburban paradise. Kramer becomes increasingly furious.

His response is one of the great running jokes of the episode.

Following Frank Costanza’s questionable anger-management strategy, Kramer repeatedly tells himself, “Serenity now.” It does not work.

Eventually all that bottled-up frustration explodes, and Kramer destroys the computers George has stored in his apartment. 

So much for serenity. And so much for Anytown.

Real Community Is Messy

There is a lesson buried underneath the comedy.

Sometimes we romanticize community.

We like the idea of friendly neighbors waving from porches. We imagine block parties, children playing outside, people borrowing cups of sugar and neighbors looking out for one another.

But real neighboring is not a Hallmark movie.

Neighbors make noise. Children kick balls into yards. Dogs get loose. People park where we wish they wouldn't. Someone's leaves blow into our yard. People have different schedules, habits, opinions and personalities.

In other words, community involves people, and people are inconvenient.

Kramer wants the aesthetics of community without the complications of community. I think we sometimes do the same thing.

We say we want stronger neighborhoods, but genuine connection requires patience, grace and tolerance. Sometimes it even requires having a difficult conversation instead of retreating behind a closed door.

A Porch Is an Invitation, Not a Decoration

There is another lesson here that I especially appreciate.

Simply building a porch does not create community. A porch is only infrastructure.

What matters is what happens there.

A porch becomes valuable when someone sits on it. A driveway becomes valuable when neighbors pull up chairs. A sidewalk becomes valuable when people stop long enough to talk. A neighborhood gathering becomes valuable when two people who didn't know one another begin a conversation.

This is why I believe so strongly in creating opportunities for neighbors to meet. The goal isn't the porch. The goal is the relationship. 

Kramer's hallway makeover is funny because he creates all the symbols of neighborhood life almost instantly. But genuine neighboring cannot be installed like a screen door.

It takes time.

Maybe We Need More “Anytown, U.S.A.”

Despite the disaster, I think Kramer was onto something.

Our neighborhoods could use more spaces that communicate: Come outside. Sit down. Stay awhile. Talk to somebody.

Maybe that is a front porch. Maybe it is a couple of lawn chairs in the driveway. Maybe it is a picnic table in the front yard. Maybe it is simply deciding that when you see your neighbor outside, you will stop what you're doing for five minutes and have a conversation.

The physical space matters because our environments influence our behavior. But the space is only the beginning.

Eventually someone has to say what Kramer said: “Hello, neighbor.”

And then we have to be willing to accept everything that comes with it—including the occasional baseball in the flowers.

Because the real goal of neighboring isn't serenity. It's connection.

There’s a fun opportunity here to pair the blog with a horizontal image inspired by the “Anytown, U.S.A.” front-porch idea—an apartment hallway transformed into an absurdly cheerful neighborhood porch, without directly depicting the Seinfeld characters.

WRITTEN BY

David L. Burton

For more information, visit the Engaged Neighbor website. Take our pledge and become part of a movement! Or subscribe to our newsletter. Access some of the research documents written by David Burton, the author of this blog. Or better yet, purchase one of his books off Amazon. Contact David L. Burton via email at dburton541@yahoo.