Lesson #2 is demonstrated through our neighbors. First, I'll tell you that we are surrounded by some great neighbors, but also some assho... well since it's new years, we'll go with "not-so-great" neighbors. Our closest neighbor, just next door, is James. He falls at the top of the former category. The neighbor across the back alley with the little yipper of a dog named "fu#!er" falls at the top of the latter category. The dog is actually named "fu#!er". You can imagine dinner on our back deck with the kids, and the bellowing neighbor walking out on the back steps and yelling at the dog by name to come inside. Brilliant. Two houses down live "the brothers". The brothers are in their 70s and have lived together their entire life except for 2 years in their teens when Gene was "jumping box cars on the Canadian Pacific" and left Ed at home. The gist of these two is that they couldn't survive without each other. Finally, across the street we have a gear-head that sells drugs we think, and our other next door neighbor, Dave, is never home. He lives with his girlfriend, but keeps his house ("keeps" may be an over generous word) so that if his GF kicks him out, he has somewhere to sleep that night.
Everyone can relate to someone in this neighborhood, whether you are one of my readers in Checkoslovakia, Yemen, or Ely. A neighborhood is a collection of variety, even if it is a neighborhood that looks the same from the houses, to the jobs people have, to the cars they drive (which is not the case for our block). While a good fence makes a good neighbor, it also gives you something to lean on while they tell you a story. Here's one for the new year.
James, our 70 year-old, former category neighbor next door, tends to shovel his next door neighbor's (our) entire driveway, sidewalk, and steps, before either of the mid 30's inhabitants can get to it. A couple weeks ago, we had a good snow storm here with 5-6" of snow. James had it shoveled by the time we got home from work as usual. The following morning, there was a message left on the answering machine. Jessie has transcribed it below:
"Dave and Jessie, this is your next door neighbor, James, 651-778-3442, God bless you. Well, I think i'll be gone for a couple days, so if you can make sure to fill the bird bath so it doesn't go dry, fill the bird feeders, take in the mail, and help yourself to the newspaper, that would be great. Just keep an eye on the place while I'm gone. Probably just a day or two. Anyways, this is James, your neighbor next door, 651-778-3442. So just remember to really keep an eye on that bird bath because it is the only spot for the birds to get water this time of year. Oh, and by the way, I think I had a stroke this morning. I can't move my right side, so I'll try calling a friend to come and pick me up. He'll just take me to the hospital to get checked out. I'll call you when I get home. Again, this is James, your next door neighbor; God bless. Oh, and remember the bird bath. Goodbye."
I called James at the hospital that night, and sure enough, he had a stroke. He said he'd be ready for pickup in a couple days, and reminded me not to forget the bird bath.
We did not forget the bird bath. Nor have we stopped shoveling for the last couple weeks. Between the brothers 2 houses down who don't own a shovel, James with a stroke that I have a shovel-less guilt about (shovel is being used in it's verb form here), Dave who isn't next door, and the proud owners of the classiest dog in St. Paul across the back alley, we have our work cut out for us every time it snows now. Sure, if we didn't shovel the entire block, the brothers would hold each others arms and wade through the foot of snow to get to the bus stop where they catch the 2 hour ride to work, and James would fire up the snowblower with his wobbling right leg (just like he tried to carry his new doctor-recommended, post-stroke exercise bike from the garage into the basement by himself last week), the owners of the most sophisticated dog in St. Paul, would easily get out of the alley with their 4x4 truck even without shoveling their portion of the alley, and Dave next door would never notice, because he isn't.
The lesson for us is that everyone comes to rely on someone for something. The brothers rely on someone shoveling their front walk so they don't fall (this happens about once a month). And the owners of the most royal pain-in-the-ass dog in the world rely on someone else to shovel their portion of the alley so that the 95 year old neighbor in the center of the block can get his little 4"-clearance-sedan out without losing his transmission on the snow and ice in the alley. The reliance we have on others for some piece of our lives is usually not volitional or a result of supineness. It is just part of being in a neighborhood. A neighborhood that is a collection of variety. Everyone adds something to a neighborhood (even if it just giving us a good laugh every time Fu#!er's master calls him), and everyone gets something back.
Oh, and as for the birds, they rely on James to have open water on this -4degF day in Saint Paul. And James relies on them for company. That's why tending the bird bath was more important than the seemingly striking inability to move one half of his body.
Happy new year! Don't let the bird bath freeze over.
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