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Hang It Up: Line-drying is not only an easy way to cut back on greenhouse gas emissions, it’s also a calming, meditative household task. File photo |
Comments (4)Defending Our Unalienable Right to Dry
By Beth IngallsPublished: April 8, 2010
Full Spectrum
Hanging up a load of clothes on a bright, breezy early spring day, I got to thinking about the politics of line-drying after some powerful childhood memories from the summer of 1968 washed over me. I was five that year, and impervious not only to the stifling Ohio heat but also to the tremendous upheaval going on in the world around me. As I trotted through the backyards of my neighborhood in Upper Arlington, prickly stick grass poked the soles of my bare feet. Breezes were few in the middle of the day, and colorful clothes and bright white sheets hung on the line stiffly and obediently under the midday sun.
I loved to weave in and out of the long, neat rows of clothesline that we shared with neighbors in our block of duplexes. The soundtrack of my summer and even my dreams was a newly released single by Mary Hopkin entitled “Those Were the Days My Friend.” This was my place on the planet, my permanent home, or so I thought. I had no idea then that it was merely a launching pad for my upwardly mobile family.
By the time the next summer rolled around, we had moved to a four-bedroom home in suburbia. My brother and I each had our own room for the first time, my parents’ master bedroom seemed absolutely massive, and we even had an extra bedroom reserved exclusively for guests. Separating the family room and the living room was a brick wall with a fireplace that you could see through from both sides. There was a nice dining room we hardly ever sat down to eat in, and a basement with a pool table. The front and back yards were expansive.
There weren’t any clotheslines in that tidy suburban neighborhood. We had everything we needed to do the laundry inside. Not only that, it appeared it wasn’t fashionable or acceptable to hang personal clothing items and bedding out in the yard anymore.
I couldn’t walk down to the corner market with coins jingling in my pocket to pick up my favorite Bazooka gum, either. The store was miles away, and we only went there by car. Same with the pool, the park, the school, the shopping center, and thesports fields.
My dad, who had once hopped on the bus at the corner in the old neighborhood to head to his job downtown, needed a car to drive to work, too. So instead of making do with just one, we soon added another vehicle to the family fleet.
I adapted quickly to these changes in lifestyle. I suppose I even welcomed them. My parents seemed happy and, after all, it’s much easier to get used to convenience and abundance than to give things up.
Now I see how dramatically these incremental changes in lifestyle affected me and how, on a massive scale, they have played an even larger role in altering the climate systems of our planet. The truth is, I was born into an era and culture in the early 1960s where conspicuous consumption was just beginning to take hold. Since then, having more than we need and doing things without regard for resources has become standard, acceptable American behavior.
These standards must be unraveled and rethought in order to preserve our planet.
Clotheslines certainly won’t change the world, but I tend to believe that every little step that gets us back in touch with simpler times and simpler ways of being are critically important. My line is up year-round in Olympic Heights, and with spring now upon us, I’ve already had the chance to enjoy several batches of sweet-smelling, air-dried clothes.
We don’t have restrictions on clotheslines there, but many communities across the country and even some local subdivisions do have rules in place that prevent residents from hanging their clothes up to dry.
Until we restore these basic, unalienable rights we will never get back to where we need to be. And besides that, shouldn’t every kid know the pleasure of weaving in and out of clotheslines on a sultry summer day?
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