Porch couches: toxic or just hideous?

Bloomington’s updated Property Maintenance Code seeks to rid Bloomington of porch couches for public health and aesthetic concerns. Bloomington residents will likely be asked to switch out their beloved couches for appropriate outdoor furniture.

What marks the official difference between indoor and outdoor furniture?

The inclusion of wicker? The absence of moth-eaten cloth?

Why is Bloomington spending its valuable time policing these
differences?

Porch couches are unsightly offenses against human retinas, but accusing them of being toxic cancer beds and venues for infestation just sounds like Bloomington is forging ahead with its beautification agenda.

The Bloomington City Council is wasting its time with this latest proposed addition to the Property Maintenance Code.

Porch couches are in the same league with year-round Christmas lights and glittering bottles of cheap alcohol. They are tacky but quintessential in the decorative schemes of college students’ homes.

Will the porch police, in their next attack against tacky Bloomington residents, storm Bloomington residents’ porches and rip Christmas lights from their beams, citing them as a fire hazard?

Will they snap on their gloves and carefully remove each bottle of tequila from the residents’ windowsills, gently reminding them of the dangers of broken glass?

Anything filthy can be a site for infestation, and it seems like everything is linked to cancer nowadays. Deodorant. Pringles. Oral sex. The porch couch is just another
target.

Why doesn’t the council go ahead and assign everyone to his or her own individual sterile bubble?

Others complain of porch couches and their permeating post-rain odor. Is the smell of mildewed fabric invasive? Sure. So is the smell of game day barbecues to dedicated vegetarians, but the vegetarian police aren’t sweeping into peoples’ yards to control the use of grills.

Ultimately, this addition to the Property Maintenance Code boils down to a sneaky attempt to manage the town’s aesthetics.

Bloomington is a college town and will not escape the tawdry students-on-a-budget look.

Should Bloomington residents be more committed to cleaning their repulsive and distastefully placed couches? Yes.

If the code insists on rectifying health concerns, it should focus on the maintenance and not the removal of porch couches.

The entire town should not be forced to toss their furniture sets because some residents welcome wandering creepy crawlies by refusing to uphold the quality of their couches.

So wash those wretched seat covers, fellow Hoosiers. Invest in a bottle of Febreze.
Or else develop a taste for wicker, because the Bloomington City Council is coming for your furniture.