THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Monday, July 1, 1996 TAG: 9606290002
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A7 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: OPINION
SOURCE: George Hebert
LENGTH: 55 lines
Every once in a while, when my mind is in a pleasant groove, I think about the bench. The public bench.
Sometimes, the images I conjure up are funny - the results of imprints left by cartoons (idlers snoozing on benches under newspaper eye-shields) or bench-centered skits like those on old ``Laugh-In'' programs or Forrest Gump's bench-launched gems of naive wisdom.
In this vein, I take particular delight in retelling humorist H. Allen Smith's story from his practical joke collection - about the pranksters who hefted and walked off with a park bench after making sure a policeman was watching. And then, upon being accosted, producing a bill of sale to show that the bench was actually theirs.
But mostly I think about what a fine thing a bench is - for taking a load off one's feet, for sitting and thinking and watching, for letting the quieter rhythms take over.
One of my favorite activities (read that inactivities, I guess) in Williamsburg is to relax on one of the sturdy all-wood benches that abound in Merchants Square and survey the passing parade - including the frequent foot-weary tourists who have spotted similar sitting spaces and are making bee-lines to take advantage.
I suspect benches in malls are indispensable to many a man, as is the case with me, when wifely shopping adventures argue for husbandly sitdowns of either long or short duration.
In fact, it comes to me that about the only sources of regret with regard to the all-weather public bench are the situations in which it is lacking or scanty. In one store recently, when I noticed what I considered a shortage, I dropped a note in the suggestion box. Lo and behold, benches galore showed up in a week or so, perhaps not entirely because of me but they showed up just the same.
In fact, unbenched locales seem to be dwindling in number as a general and happy proposition.
I recall that some years ago, a boss of mine, Ledger-Star editor Joseph A. Leslie, used to deplore in person - and in editorial print - the lack of places around Norfolk's potentially exciting waterfront where locals and visitors alike could sit down and enjoy the river scenery.
Well, time has brought magnificent public access to the Elizabeth through the Waterside festival marketplace. Both ground-level and second-story benches - well-made and comfortable - now invite patrons of that facility to take a seat and revel in the adjacent riverine delights.
In sum, how can we here (or wherever benches can or do add to our sense of well being) begin to say enough in their praise?
Well, perhaps one way to start would be to call it one of the great benchmarks of modern civilization.
I think I'll at least do that. MEMO: Mr. Hebert, a former editor, lives in Norfolk. by CNB