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Showing posts with label Neighbors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neighbors. Show all posts

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Just How Nosy *Are* You?

Yesterday, I went grocery shopping with my niece, "CC". I rode with her so that I could spend a little time with DJ. Of course, he completely ignored me because he was playing with his little Talk 'n Spell. Apparently a little book that lights up while talking to him in a creepy voice is way more interesting than I am. Whatever. (Later on, I bribed him with gummie candies and got a kiss.)

On the way home, turning off the main road and into my neighborhood, we saw a few cop cars in front of an apartment building. Now, my neighborhood is in a nice area but, we have a lot of strange residents. Most of my neighbors are more interesting-strange than dangerous-strange.

There's the one lady who walks her dogs all the way down the street away from her apartment building just to let them take a crap in front of our building. She never bags the mess. Of course, I have the crazy lady upstairs from me who's on the unofficial Neighborhood Poop Patrol. She watches out the window for offenders and will chase them down to scold them about their doggy dookie. (Generally, I think of her as crazy, but I'm glad for her N.P.P. diligence. I don't have a dog at the apartment and I hate dealing with other people's, well, crap.)

Then there's the couple in the building across the street from us. They fight like David and Goliath. I think the wife is Goliath. But that's only when they are mad at each other. When they are getting along, they really get along. I'm talking extreme public displays of affection. I wouldn't want small kids to witness the show they put on for all of us. And they really can put on a show. Right out in the open. I've had cigarette cravings after watching them "get along".

One old guy next door is, apparently, a careful drunk. Some Friday evenings, he drives off to a bar somewhere and stays most of the night. Really early the next morning, he comes walking (or trying to) back home, singing loudly. This happens about twice a month. He really likes Patsy Cline's "Crazy". It's kind of cute that no one yells out their window for him to shut up. One time, I heard someone hanging out a window singing along with the old guy.

Still, most of the people around here are harmless (though I do think there's some low-level drug-dealing going on by the teens just up the block). When we see cops in the neighborhood, we figure they've come to deal with something minor.

So, yesterday, we barely glanced at the cop cars. We were in the middle of discussing some juicy family gossip. (This particular niece of mine is the Rona Barrett of our family. Or in youth-speak: Perez Hilton. I call her our Conway Twitter.)

As CC is yakking away, and I hear her say "They have guns", my first thought was, "Why would R* and L* have guns?" (Remember, we were gossiping.) Then I thought of the cops we were passing and thought, "Well, yeah." Then I saw two of the cops standing next to an apartment building with their guns drawn.

A normal and sane person would speed up a little to get past any possible danger. Right?

CC is mostly sane, but she is nosy as hell. This heifer slowed down to a crawl and started rubbernecking. When I reminded her that we had DJ in the back seat (and me right up front), she did speed up.

Now, I am nosy. I'm so nosy I once fell into a room trying to eavesdrop on a conversation. But my niece is so nosy that when we got around the corner to my apartment, she wanted to leave DJ with me so she could walk back down the street and see what was going on with the cop situation. She is so nosy that she wants to get a police scanner app for her iPhone.

Well, I shamed her out of leaving DJ, then I reminded her that innocent people have been killed by stray bullets in dangerous situations. I told her to take the back way out of the neighborhood and tune into the news when she was safely home. I went inside and locked all my doors and windows.

Ten minutes later, CC called me. Four more cops had appeared on the scene (guns drawn), and they had started clearing the building. CC hadn't been able to get any more details because a policeman had waved her along when she drove past. (So much for taking the back way...)

As soon as I hung up with CC, I called my sister and told her that our niece is a crazy woman. "I'm not that nosy," I said. My sister reminded me of that time I was eavesdropping and fell into the room when someone opened the door. I reminded her of the time she'd got busted listening in on a phone conversation. (That time, Mom had put down the phone in one room and crept up on my sister listening on the extension in another room. I think my sister developed a heart murmur.)

Okay, so "nosy" runs in the family. I'm just not as nosy as my niece. I'm too chicken to be that nosy. Now, if we're talking eavesdropping, I'm your girl. Or, if I'm a safe distance away (or behind a barrier), I'll even watch something dangerous unfold - hell, I'll bring the refreshments. I'm just not the girl to hang out where stray bullets (or fists) my fly my way. I am thinking of looking for one of those scanner apps, though. Do they make one for Android?

Peace
--Free

Sunday, May 28, 2006

Neighbors & Cohorts

I talk to my old snoop-buddy neighbor back in Anchorage almost every weekend when my T-Mobile minutes are free. We talk about her new neighbors - the ones who have my old house (she hates them), the old neighbors (she never did like but one of them), and my new neighbors.

I've been so lucky. I have nice neighbors here. I think I told y'all about Doug and Linda, who live right next door to my left. They are an older-than-me (50/60-ish) couple. She is hilarious & reminds me of the women from the south. She can talk about someone under her breath while they are standing 3 feet away, cracking me up while she never makes a face. He is a Suns fan, but I dig him anyway. When some strange company van showed up the other day and two guys started digging up my yard "to lay cable," I went & got Doug to come and find out what the deal really was. Not because I am a helpless female or thought the guys were lying to me, but because I wanted them to know that I am close enough to my neighbors that should they try anything, someone would be watching. Doug was great. He ascertained that the guys were legit (he knew of the company they represented), and he made sure they planned to put my yard back right when they were finished with their work. They did. I think they even added a couple of plants!

This morning, I got a call from the moving company that's bringing my stuff in from Anchorage. So happens I'm home alone. Everyone else is at church. I stayed home in case the movers did show up today. When they called to say they were just several miles out, I realized I was going to be parading around the house alone directing them on where to place boxes. Normally, I'd feel safe enough, but Doug and Linda are out of town & I'm keeping an eye out on their empty house. Hmmm... Now might be a good time to meet my other neighbors. The lady across the street (who came and introduced herself one day & told my sister about the drama of her life as wife of a man with several outside-the-marriage children...) was not home. Maybe she and her hubby are on one of his parental visits? So... I went to the neighbor on the other side of Doug and Linda's. I've seen and waved to this man - older gentleman with Memorial Day flags flying everywhere. He walks around the yard, tanned and shirtless, so I admire his toughness already. I tiptoe through an immaculate yard with some of the most beautiful plants and shrubbery I've ever seen. More American flags on the door columns, and a doormat with a Marine's logo. The doorbell plays a few strains of the "National Anthem." Yeah. This guy is all right with me. I'm from a family of military men. Any soldier, sailor, airmen or marine is up one in my book from the get-go.

Russ answered the door & when I introduced myself, I got the story of his retirement from the Marines, how he and his wife spend their days, and a bio of at least five other neighbors. Cool dude. He assured me that he would wander down and keep an eye out for me with all those male movers going in and out of my house. He already knew I was from Anchorage because he'd met my brother when Joe was fixing up the house for me to move in. Russ is a man, remember, and Joe drives a really cool car. Men and cars. I'm talking to Russ in a tank top and shorts - half-naked by Alaska standards - but I bet he remembers more about the features on Joe's car than he does about the clothes I was wearing. Men. Cars.

Anyway. I have nice neighbors. I'm thinking I should have my niece send me a couple of Ulus - which are Native Alaskan knives, used for everything from skinning animal hides to food prep. I want to gift them to my neighbors because I realize I could've ended up with mean, spiteful people who never speak or acknowledge my presence. I could have ended up with neighbors who leave nasty notes in my mailbox.

Poor Liz, my old snoop-buddy... I bet she won't be sending any gift baskets across the road to the "Poops." This is what she nicknamed the neighbors after the Episode of the Nasty Note. I can't wait until she can visit me here. After we hit Olive Garden and Ulta Cosmetics to pick up some lotion and sunscreen, I'm going to take her over to meet Doug, Linda, and Russ. Maybe we can all have a little backyard bbq? Maybe I can talk her into moving here. There's a cute little house for sale just about eight doors down from me...

Peace
--Free


Words:
"Good neighbors share more than property lines!"

Web:
I don't know. I told y'all I been slacking off.

Music:

The State Farm song keeps running through my head and blocking any other coherent thoughts, but maybe that Gladys Knight/Elton John/Dionne Warwick song about friends???

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