Dirty Laundry

There are municipalities in this country which have restrictive covenants against clotheslines on one's property. They were originally instituted in a time when energy conservation was not one of the prevailing issues faced by society and property esthetics were deemed as more important. Today, when we are confronted with rising electricity and oil costs, it just makes sense to cut back on energy use where we can.

Early in my (now dissolved) marriage I expressed my wish to erect a clothesline the backyard of the home we had recently purchased. This simple request was met with disdain and derision and I was literally shocked into silence. When I tried to argue my case it was like my words were hitting a brick wall. Although I was never given a concrete reason, I have since been lead to believe that the clothesline symbolized poverty and lower class levels. Who would have thought a simple and cost effective method of drying one's clothes could cause such a great debate? Curious, I posed a question to some friends, worded as unbiased as I could, "Do you/would you use a clothes line to dry your clothes? Why/why not?"

I won't call my results scientific by any means, but they were oddly telling. Of the roughly 25 people I polled, only 3 women answered my call compared with 7 men… All three women and 5 of the men would be overwhelmingly in favour of using a clothesline, if they weren't already. The reasons varied, but themes included wanting to conserve energy, liking the smell of line-hung clothing and the invoking of childhood memories.

A simple internet search reveals that this subject runs much deeper than most people would think. Photographers have captured the beauty of clotheslines in their shadow, shape and form and there are books dedicated to various knots used to secure the cords between two trees/poles/buildings. There are also "green" websites devoted to the act of hang drying clothes where the forums go on for pages with all opinions and reasons for (or against), the simple line. It's almost as if there is a secret clothesline society.

For myself there is a poignant romanticism associated with them. They extol life at its simplest denominator. The sound of sheets and towels fluttering, the silhouettes they cast upon the green grass below or the buildings between which they hang, and most prominent, the fresh smells they capture and bring inside to be experienced for days to come. There is just a homey satisfaction to the unpretentious act of hanging clothes out to dry.

Although the closest I can come today is a wooden drying rack in my apartment spare room, I can guarantee that the next home I buy will have a clothesline in the back yard. (I guess that brings the women total up to 4.)

Pure Passion

Pure passion is a part of many of us. We have things in our lives that we are avid about. And some of us have more than just one. A high school friend I have just recently reconnected with sparked the idea for this post.

We had not seen each other for probably close to 25 years. At a high school reunion we spoke briefly and outlined, in a few short sentences, what we had done during that time. It is easy to discover someone’s passion when you have only a few short minutes to compress your life. People tend to pick out the best of the best when looking to quickly describe their life. More often than not, a person’s passions will be first and foremost. While this particular friend was telling me what he had been doing since we last parted a recurring theme emerged in his descriptions. His wife and children were the first thing he mentioned, then next, not surprisingly, wasn’t his job (I still don’t know what he does) but his chosen sport, windsurfing. I knew then, when I saw the spark in his eye, that this was something about which he felt quite strong. And he could see that I was receptive to hearing more, so he elaborated and enthusiastically answered my questions on the subject.

It is curious to listen to someone speak about something that holds so much importance to them. And even more intriguing to be able to relate to them and share in their enthusiasm, even if you don’t understand anything about it. Because if you have a passion of your own, you already know the feeling and can apply it to something that is familiar to you.

He in turn has commented to me about my personal aspirations, running, but more to the point, running the Boston Marathon in 2008. Because we both understand, there is very little that actually needs to be said. It’s like we just know. I find it interesting that there are some people whom I barely know who can understand my passion more than someone who spent over 12 years of their life with me. But it just tells me that in order to understand passion, you must own it. And to own it you must feel it. Only then can it make you become truly alive.