8 Foot Porch Guy

Last weekend I attended the Society of City and Regional Planning History conference in Portland, Maine. This is why I was not in the TCI during the passing of Noel. Thursday night I ate dinner with 2o or so distinguished scholars at a small Indian restaurant. I have been trying to build relationships within the history of housing academics for almost ten years, which has proved difficult as I am not really a full-time academic. This was the the first year that I received a pre-conference invitation to have dinner. Though, I must admit I am not considered a distinguished scholar either. Though, I am running into more and more people in this small group of academics who think they have heard of my work.

On Friday, I presented a paper entitled "The Near Urban Front Porch as an Integrated System of Access and Community: Lessons We Should Learn From." Basically, this was a paper arguing that in the 1920s builders figured out that the ideal dimension for a front porch was 8 feet wide. Today, many builders constructing "traditional" houses build 4 or 5 foot porches. This is just the "idea" of a porch and does not function as a usable exterior space that mediates the public street and private home. I argue that builders, planners, and zoning officials should be building 8 foot porches. This is what worked in the 1920s and this is what would work today.

The papers before and after my paper were both on the same planner, a guy named Halprin, though neither paper title really reflected this. Everyone in the room was a Halprin scholar. During the question period at the end of the session, I was not asked me a single question. It is just my luck to be absolutely captivated by aspects of historic housing in the 1920s that not another person really cares about.

During the reception that evening, I was drowning my sorrows in several bowls of Lobster bisque. I was talking to my new found compatriots (other scholars who don't get any respect). Someone asked how my paper went, because they did not get to see it (code for "it did not sound very interesting"). I said it went great, pretty good delivery, good images, people laughed where they should have, but in the end no one really cared. Just at that point, someone walked up and said, "you presented on porches today. I wanted to ask you a question but I could not stay to the end of the session." Everyone at my table rolled their eyes, because frankly it looked like an extremely well choreographed set up.

During our conversation about my paper, this scholar said, "I have only seen one other paper dealing with porches at a conference. This was four years ago in St. Louis." "Really," said I, "was it my paper, 'The Successful Street as an Integrator of the Pedestrian and Automobile.' " And in fact it was. Here was the only person who has heard both of my papers on the front porch. We went out dinner, and I bought them a lobster.

On my way home from Maine, I went in to use the restroom at the airport. I walked up to the urinal and the guy standing next to me turned and said, "Hey, the 8 foot porch guy." So now I guess I got that going for me.