This is a version of an article I wrote years ago for a local publication. I saw someone talking about this topic recently and it prompted me to re-publish here.
There’s something I’m super old-school about: I love the idea of people dropping by my house casually, unplanned, just because they were in the neighborhood. Unfortunately, that seems to be mostly a thing of the past.
Many years ago, when we lived in the suburbs of Minneapolis, MN, a young family moved into our neighborhood. I learned the mom was at home for the time being, caring for her young kids. I was, too—we’d just had our first baby and I’d left teaching. Writing, parenting, and homemaking took up all my time.
So one day while I was out for a walk, I decided I’d stop by and introduce myself. I walked up to the door, wearing my baby in a carrier, and rang the doorbell. No answer. I was pretty sure she was home, so I rang it again. I then decided to peek into the big window beside the door. This was maybe a bad decision in retrospect, but I figured hey, I’m harmless—I just want to say hi!
(I was also literally a lady wearing a baby.)
Here’s what I saw through the window: my neighbor, sitting on the couch, looking toward the door with a terrified look on her face. I thought surely she’d come to the door after she saw me, but after a minute or so without the door opening, I was still standing there and the door hadn’t opened. So I gave up and continued on my walk.
(I later left a card in her mailbox introducing myself and apologizing that I’d freaked her out.)
We eventually moved to a more rural community, and over the years I’ve learned that—even in a small-ish town—it’s just not really a thing these days to stop by someone’s house unplanned.
My brother-in-law once showed me a video of stand-up comedian Sebastian Maniscalco talking about this topic.
“It’s a different feeling when your doorbell rings today versus 20 years ago,” he says in the sketch. “Twenty years ago, your doorbell rang, that was a happy moment in your house. It was called company.” He details the joyful scene of an unexpected doorbell ring: kids sliding to the door in their socks, Mom getting out coffee and cake, everyone sitting and chatting, sometimes for hours.
He contrasts that to an unexpected person at your door today, going on to describe, to the audience’s great delight, a state of total panic: “Get down, somebody’s outside! They’re at the door!” A bit exaggerated, but honestly hitting the point home well. Bottom line: “You can’t stop by anybody’s house anymore. If you do, you have to call from the driveway. You’re like, ‘I’m here. Can I approach?’”
It's a great bit. I showed it to my mom, and she nodded and laughed in recognition. And it’s true—she totally knew what Sanka was and I most definitely hadn’t heard of it. (I just had to Google how to spell it, ha.) Apparently, it was instant decaf coffee people used to have around for, you know, unexpected evening company!
Maybe to some it seems stressful, but to me, having people stop by my house unplanned seems like a delight. When we first moved to the small town we live in now, one of my friends actually did this. It was just like the old days—he was in the area. He saw the garage door open and figured we must be home. He rang the doorbell.
I took a break from unpacking boxes, we chatted for a bit as I have him a quick tour of our new/totally messy place, and he went on his way. No back-and-forth for weeks making plans to hang out—just a quick hello and connection. It was so refreshing. It made my day.
I have a deep longing for a time when people did things like this. We’ve lost something—a lot, I think—through the normalization of digital interaction and a packed schedule of activities in lieu of time relaxing at home.
I fear we’ll never get it back. But I hope we do.
We have a sign in our kitchen that says Come as you are. And I mean it. Stop on by. I might not have cake or Sanka like the women of times gone by, and my house will surely be a bit messy, but we’ll chat. I’ll find some dark chocolate, and we always have LaCroix.
I don’t know about you, but this is something I aspire to—to have people over in an informal, spontaneous way, for a few minutes or a few hours, and just enjoy the company.
Like the old days.
I still wish we could bring this back. How about you? What steps are you taking, if any, to create more casual, in-person interaction in your life? I’d love to hear.
Last week I decided I was going to bake my neighbor a loaf of sour dough. We stand with her at the bus stop often as her grandson catches the bus and she watches him. When I got the bread out of the oven I walked it over to her house, knocked on the door and found myself feeling embarrassed for just showing up announced. I said things like “I’m not trying to impose on your time I just wanted to give you this blah blah blah” because the millennial in me didn’t want her to feel like she had to “stop what she was doing.” She invited me right in. Started conversation with me, thanked me for the bread, offered to show me around her house. She really didn’t make me feel like I was imposing at all. They later donated an old play house to us and yeah, all in all, couldn’t agree more with this perspective. We really are missing something here. Everyone wants to say they would love to “live in a community where neighbors help each other” but no one wants to even open the door for each other.
I have 100% been your neighbor hiding in fear when the doorbell rings :) I dread pop ins, ha. But I also love our rural lane where we have very friendly, kind neighbors and lots of open land that we all essentially share when it comes to places for the kids to hike, ride, take their sleds. There's just a big respect for 'space' which I am in favor of. Though I recognize this is a bit of a 'me' problem. I avoid small talk like the plague, ha. Now if people were showing up with coffee in hand for some deep conversation, I might be persuaded!