Friday, April 17, 2009

Talking To My Neighbors

Yesterday evening I went outside for awhile because it was a rare day where people on the block were outside. I saw one of my neighbors pulling into her driveway. I found out that her husband had a heart attack and a stroke. He’s been in the hospital for awhile. That explains why I haven’t seen him. He’s not that old of a guy. I think he’s somewhere around my dad’s age. That’s the kind of news that makes you want to throw away the rest of the leftover Easter ham and stop drinking Crown Royal. I could do without the ham. I am going to have to grow into giving up Crown. I might have to cut my neighbor’s grass for awhile if she can’t get anyone else to do it. What’s messed up is the people who stay between us has a riding more and those two men were drinking buddies. He can’t cut the grass because his wife is still angry about something no one knows about. Even her husband doesn’t know. Oh well, we can’t do anything about her paranoid self. Anyway, I heard Mr. John was doing a little better. He had some movement on his right side so lets hope he recovers enough to make it back to his crib. I don't think he'll be walking to the store for those big 24oz cans of Budweiser anymore.

Just a quick side note: When the guy who lives across the street from you walks his new born in the stroller and his pit bull on a chain at the same time while smoking a Black and Mild cigar and is literally walking them in the street, it’s okay to call your area a hood. Even if everyone including the person walking them has a job that's a hood. If he goes to the park to do the same thing but adds jogging to the equation with workout gear and one of those goofy looking hats you can call your area middle class.

I also found out that their house and another at the end of the block were broken into for big screen televisions. I live in a fairly quiet area. We are just the right distance from the club where we can’t hear the music or get any of the traffic. I guess I had talked myself into thinking that my quiet area of the hood was safe. After that news yesterday I think that since 90% of the people around there leave for work we are prime targets for stuff like this. I’m even more concerned because the two houses to my right are still empty and that’s prime hiding spots. That might be why they targeted the house they did. There is a house next to that one that looks like a small forest because no one has came to cut the grass or the trees. I have to tell the folks across the street about the break-ins and take away their small idea of comfort too. I have to do it because everyone is going to have to start paying more attention. That’s how it is living in the city sometimes. You have to take the good and the bad. Hopefully we can get together as a neighborhood and figure out how to move up on the city pecking order to get some extra patrols. All we need is something to attract tourists.



man i miss the national guard.

you just described my "hood" to a tee.

you sure we aren't neighbors?

Editor B said...

Thanks for breaking it down for me. I do not live in the ghetto. I live in the hood. Seriously, I like that better than "I live in a slum area." It's all relative, of course.

Loye R said...

I knew I lived in the hood when a young boy--maybe 7 or 8 years old--pulled up along side my driver's side window when I stopped at the stop sign a block from my house and said to me, "Race me, bitch."

Loye R said...

^The boy was riding a bicycle by the way.