Of Foyers and Fading Out

In a sea of seriously disturbing news items (Kamala being called “Hitler and Stalin combined but times 200,”) and the contents of the public bonding debacle between Donald Trump and Elon Musk, LBL has been especially shocked at the following two items: the imminent demise of the foyer and the fact that aging is now known to go in bursts, rather than a gradual, civilized slide into oblivion.

Eliminating the foyer is part of the national trend to downsize houses in general. The size of homes newly under construction in 2023 dropped to an average of 2,411 square feet, or a median of 2,179 square feet, the smallest size in 13 years. But to counter this trend, as homes shrink, prices go up and more and more home furniture and accessories become available to buy.

The aging burst theory is another matter entirely. Apparantly, at age 40 and again at age 60, humans experience two “bursts” of aging. As soon as LBL read this, she immediately reviewed those two specific ages in order to see if she could remember bursts of any kind, happening on or in her.

Life at age 40 involved Then Husband, three children, one dog, and an assortment of Legos that defied explanation nor the ability of any human to count. Any aging burst most likely went unnoticed. There were, of course, many other bursts, mostly consisting of verbal tirades about stepping on said Legos, children running late for school/soccer practice and wondering why reports of any kind were announced the evening before they were due.

Age 60 was a bit different, being comprised primarily of Now Husband and a cat. This afforded LBL more time to assess the aging process, primarily to note that certain body parts had taken up residence elsewhere and that a disturbing number of supermarket workers were calling her “Ma’m.”

Let us now see an aging LBL in the form of a new-age downsized home. She can totally understand the disappearance of the foyer. She will be the first person to tell you that her own foyer is no longer the exciting, welcoming entry it once was. If anything, the light no longer works, and replacing the bulb doesn’t help. It’s not a comfortable place to be. The welcome mat to enter into the foyer now reads “Not on your life.” The rooms of said house, are indeed, smaller, as is the relocation of several rooms to places in which LBL was unaware until doctors pointed them out, usually by saying “Uh oh” and then using a lot of words LBL didn’t understand.

The home office is now a nook off another room. LBL can relate to this as well, as her real estate career has morphed into online teaching, coaching, and travel. None of these necessitate file cabinets, fax and copy machines and both a landline and a cell phone, both generally going off at the same time. Paper has virtually disappeared, freeing up loads of LBL’s time in hunting for the document she needs. Now, she simply loses documents on her laptop, a less messy event.

The kitchen is now soley part of an open floor plan, just as LBL’s requirement to provide family meals has now become unneccessary. For those Loyal Readers wondering how to make that leap from the kitchen as touchie-feelie provider of nourishment and well-being to simply another room to decorate, you’ll have to wait until her book is published on that matter.

LBL welcomes all of this, as a counterpoint to the vast mega mansions that populated her real estate career. Living (and thinking) in a smaller footprint in general has to be a good thing, for any number of reasons, chief of which would be the elimination of bludgeoning hyperbole . Imagine a world in which people and/or things we didn’t agree with were not necessarily the WORST people or things that ever happened in the history of the planet. Imagine a world in which a politician could speak about an opponent without describing them as Stalin/Hitler/The Devil (but 200 times worse). Imagine a world in which houses and politics served people’s needs, rather than their fantasies.

Oh, and the most important: Imagine a world in which people did or didn’t go through bursts of aging, but, either way, like the loss of their personal foyer, they were simply too busy to notice.