I find clotheslines full of laundry aesthetically pleasing. I like the springy way t-shirts and blouses wheeze in and out with the wind. I like seeing summer frocks blowing gently in hot air. I like the way autumnal winds bluster and whip sheets and towels into a frenzy. I like the way blankets hang half frozen in the wintertime. Unfortunately, these scenes of domesticated loveliness are hard to find nowadays.
Recently, a commentator on National Public Radio informed me that 60 million Americans live where clotheslines are banned by neighborhood covenants. Cities, towns and even whole states have made backyard clotheslines against the law. The main reason cited is aesthetics; clotheslines bring the property values down.
So we are no longer able to hang a clothesline in our own backyard? I say to that, hogwash! Legislation against clotheslines has immobilized grassroots groups who have formed their own Right to Dry Movement. Unfortunately, I find their whole argument extremely funny in a sad, sad way. The Right to Dry people are all about saving the environment by the disuse of tumble dryers. They tout the benefits of Low Tech Solar Dryers on global warming. They see the use of clotheslines as a small way to do their part for saving the planet.
What the Right to Dry people don't seem to understand is that it is probably their very own politically correct agenda that has brought America to this point. We Americans are no longer allowed to state our personal opinions if they don't mesh with the opinions of the masses. We don't want to disenfranchise anyone. We don't want to allow any differences in our society. We are offended by the sight of our neighbor's underwear flapping in the wind.
See where it leads...to more disenfranchisement...to stupid laws...to a ridiculously scary "Big Brother Is Watching" society.
As for me, I love the sight of fresh laundry on the clothesline. It's about aesthetics. And as we all know, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.