I don’t like using words that readers have to Google, but I’ve had two guys tell me they were drawn to Forest Park because of its “propinquity.” I looked it up just to learn the pronunciation: “pro-PING-kwede.”
For such a long word, the meaning is simple. Propinquity comes from the Latin word meaning “nearness.” It’s a social phenomenon that we form relationships with people who are in close proximity. This can happen in the workplace or in schools. It also occurs with people living across the hall in an apartment building, or with next-door neighbors.
Once I understood the word, I realized how much propinquity we have here in Forest Park. Our living space is compact and our houses are close together. Our businesses are within walking distance. We lost some of our propinquity when Ed’s Way closed. Now we’re having chance meetings at a variety of local grocery stores.
Aside from our local propinquity, I would never have met my wife without the “p” word. Many romances, like ours, begin in the workplace. According to an online reference, “Occupational propinquity is a factor in marriage selection.” When we were married, we wouldn’t have met our neighbors and formed lasting friendships if we didn’t live so close together.
Propinquity can start with who we sit next to in elementary school. It continues in high school, when we belong to the same teams. College roommates can become BFF’s, bonding over Ramen noodles and final exams. If Gayle Sayers and Brian Piccolo hadn’t roomed together, would we have the ritual of watching Brian’s Song?
Lately, my propinquity has been off the charts. In one week, I played Scrabble with a neighbor at a local restaurant. I gathered with Dive Bar Letter Writers and Historical Society members at Robert’s Westside to write letters to veterans. I enjoyed a holiday luncheon at Triton College with tutors and ESL students. Finally, we drank hot chocolate with neighbors at the Christmas Walk.
The camaraderie is wonderful but propinquity can get to be too much, especially during the holidays. Forty-six percent of Americans say they need more “alone time” this time of year. Taking a break with a book or watching a mindless holiday romance can recharge our batteries for more propinquity.
Socially, we raise our propinquity level, when we frequent the same bars or restaurants. We build relationships with staff members and regulars. During the pandemic, though, propinquity was on life-support. We became wary of each other.
Propinquity still hasn’t recovered. The workplace is gone for many. College students still avoid the classroom. Theater attendance fell. Not everyone is a fan of propinquity. They minimize human contact with online ordering and food delivery services. They keep to themselves and want to be left alone. Propinquity for them means a loss of privacy.
I don’t blame them but won’t join them. I relish every opportunity to engage others. I don’t wait in the car. I have to go in, no matter the inconvenience. I get a kick out of conversing with shopkeepers, postal employees and restaurant workers. Sometimes they apologize about the wait. I assure them I’m retired and don’t care.
I especially like going to familiar Forest Park hangouts. It’s a chance to chat with staff and see some of the regulars. I enjoy the surroundings, the food and drinks. Listening to the music they stream and watching sports on TV.
The propinquity around here is spectacular! I can see how those guys were drawn to Forest Park.
It gives me yet another reason to live on this side of the Des Plaines River.
