Archive for April 27th, 2010

27
Apr
10

graciousness in the subdivision

This afternoon I received a very gracious apology letter from my neighbors, so I went over to meet them. They explained that they did not know the sound penetrated beyond their home, apologized profusely and invited us to let them know whenever we find the music or merry-making too loud. I, in turn explained how the deep base without any lyrics or melody devastates one’s nervous system, creating huge amounts of adrenalin. The pretty young woman understood and offered additional apologies, while her cats peered curiously at me from behind the stair railing.

Referring to a sentence in last night’s blog, which she found offensive, she asked  that I not make assumptions about their values and character without knowing them. This is a perfectly reasonable request, one that resonated immediately in my peace and justice brain. I am in the wrong and apologize publicly. My reference to their drug of choice and case of beer was inappropriate and unkind. As it turns out they are lovely young kids trying to start a life together. We are just a thousand generations apart. We agreed we would work together and parted in grace. One truly cannot judge a book by its cover, or even by its title sometimes.

So, to you my good neighbors, I apologize and welcome you to the neighborhood.

They have cats. We have cats. Already we have something in common.

27
Apr
10

sleepless in the subdivision

I went to sleep tonight around 9:45 p.m. By 11:00 I had awakened twice out of disturbing dreams. In my groggy state I began to wonder what was going on. Then I realized: my next door neighbor is at it again—making noise in his family room—loud, penetrating noise with a steady, insistent beat that doesn’t quit and has no mitigating rhythms. I call this barroom noise, calculated to arouse strong feelings and provoke anger-energy responses in those who have managed to retain their hearing. I have tried heavy-duty ear plugs and white noise. Nothing blocks out the banging noise that pulls the covers off my heart and sends my adrenalin into waves of fight or flight response. I want to smash this guy’s windows…send a rocket through his house. I would call the police, but we are in an unincorporated subdivision. And that means, we are on our own. I reason with myself, pray, imagine going over there and dealing with him. I don’t. The music (I believe that is what it is called) has produced responses in me that have made me fearful of my own anger. Not exactly in keeping with a pacifist view.

It is 12:45 a.m. and I am now fully awake. The 4 cars parked in this guy’s driveway are still there, but the noise has stopped. I don’t know what they are doing over there now. Perhaps they are “cooling off” with a drug of choice and a case or two of beer. I am cooling off too—with a mild sedative and a few sips of port that I know will kick the sedation up a notch. I am resentful at having had my sacred sleep time broken into. I am not feeling forgiving at the moment and the tension makes me want to fall in a heap and cry in protest.  I write instead.

This neighbor fellow has no idea what he has done to our night. He has taken his piece of pie right out of the middle! I do not want to confront him, but I do not know how to speak to him effectively either, for I never see him around his house. He is a bit of a phantom. Don’t know his name. He moved in next door about 6 month after us. These are the times I wish I had a big, courageous, burley husband who would take care of this man-to-man. I do not. It’s just us little old ladies and our 2 little cats, living day-to-day, knowing there really is so little time to waste in this life. Two months ago we lost Bettina, as well as another dear friend of 25 years, 1 year ago I lost my sister, 1-1/2  years ago we lost our cousin, 3 years ago we lost another good friend. All of these to cancer—the thief in the night that I call the old black hag.

Tonight my partner, Big Dawg, went to bed with a heavy heart because another of her cousins in dying of cancer. She lies in bed with this heavy heart. Our neighbor does his noise thing with his buddies. The walls of his house and the walls of our house keep us separate, but the sounds of his travail permeate our bedrooms. Ours does not permeate his. There is an irony here, but I wish it were not so. It is now 2:05 a.m. as I head up to bed. God bless us all.




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