per·ma·nence
noun
- ...the state or quality of lasting or remaining unchanged indefinitely.
The road that we travel to reach the interstate from our rural home takes us through a small town where the road is lined with small, brick, mid-century ranch style homes. There is one stretch of the road where each home has an aluminum storm door adorned with an initial; this, along with the style of the home, hearkens back half a century and, in my mind, evokes permanence. I remember as a small girl riding in the back seat of the family car when we would go visiting. One time my Dad was looking for the home of an ages-old friend on a busy road. The man's last name was "Standing", I spotted a screen door with an "S"in the middle... bingo! Of course this was his home, no one ever moved back then. I can recall very few friends in elementary school whose family ever moved away, the sixties were a different time for sure. Something about these personalized doors brings comfort to me and every time we drive down this small town road, I think about the family, or more likely the aging couple now, who might live behind these doors; I think of how their children, once upon a time, would run in and out of these doors... the big intial slamming behind them. I also believe these identifying doors to be warm and welcoming: "Yes, it's us, you've found our home... please come ring our doorbell". I've assigned names to the families who might live here; this house belongs to the Millers. The Youngs and the Dixons would be their neighbors.
I realize that I am conflicted over this affection for personalized inanimate objects because following one of these drives me nuts.
Why on earth would anyone place a monogram on their car window?
It's beyond me. Maybe the personalized license plate they wanted was already spoken for.
It makes no sense, I know.
So, back to the houses and my comfy-cozy reminiscing of days-gone-by. Take a look at the chimney here; this is taking permanence to another level entirely. When your initial is built directly into your brick home the owner never plans on leaving. I mentioned my inner conflict over such things... this personalized "E" chimey is on the very same house with the "M" front door pictured above! Hmmm. The only way I can rationalize this is to imagine that the Emerson's, who built the house, left it to their daughter who married a Miller and she still calls this house her home... after all, how could she ever leave? Like I said, these objects bring comfort to my mind, just so long as there aren't any of those ridiculous monogrammed rear windows in any of these driveways I'm good.
Life is Good!
