The place where I live is not a place that you would describe as a "neighborhood" per say. It's more like a group of fields with stuff growing in them with some houses sprinkled in between fields. Let's just say that I have more soy bean plants behind my house than I do real people neighbors.
However, I do have some real people neighbors. Just a few, really. The people neighbors that I do have really are a treat. I already introduced you to "Have To Say Hello To Everyone Guy" but I have yet to tell the enthralling tale of The Loud Family. I'm willing to bet that you have a Loud Family in your neighborhood, too. You know the type: loud kids, always making noises, loud parents, always also making noises and of course, crazy dogs that--you guessed it--are always making noises. Usually chihuahuas, because they are a fitting pet for people who are all loud, all the time.
The Loud Family is an interesting bunch. They are creative in their loudness, which I suppose a small portion of me actually finds to be witty and/or interesting. Admirable, even. The Loud Family has added to their loudness by turning what I imagine was once their yard of grass into large piles of dirt. It goes well with their oversized trampoline and their above-ground pool with observation deck so they can scream "WOOO!"
It's their own personal,
It's loud. And it's constant. And I can't go anywhere in my house and NOT hear it. Even the basement. In my special room with the padded walls where I rock back and forth in the corner because I'm crazy from that sound. When I talk to people on the phone, they say things like, "What on EARTH is that SOUND?" Oh that? That's just the neighbors and their silly dirtbikes! Pay no mind to that sound, person who can't hear me over all that REEEEEEEEEEIINGIINGG-ing eventhough all the windows and doors in my home are closed!
Some days, it's quiet. The only REEIIINNNGGIIGNNGG-ing is the REEEEIIINNGINGNG-ing in my head. Then, there are other days when new, slightly more dreadful sound presents itself: the beep-beep-beep-ing of a bulldozer. I hear it, in my nightmares, because I know what it means: the hills are being re-configured. For a newer, better-er dirtbike-ier course. Because everyone knows that you can't just go over the same old hills for months on end! BOR-ING! Zzzzzzz. That was me falling asleep on my keyboard from merely thinking about how old and over-played the old dirtbike course has become. You gotta mix things up and get crazy so you can improve your dirtbiking skillz, yo! Also, you should buy your own bulldozer so you can just configure and re-configure the living daylights out of those dirt mounds whenever you want. All the live-long-day, even.
You know, I realize that there's nothing wrong with having a passion in life. In fact, I think you should have a passion. Passions are fantastic. But why, WHY, must every last one of your passions be so loud? Can't we all just have passions that are just slightly less noisy, like croquet or bocce ball? Or, playing the "quiet game?" I love that game! It's really a good time, I promise.
Also, don't get me wrong: I'm no angel myself. I know that I'm an integral part of the cast of characters in this elaborate yarn. I can't decide on what role the residents of my home and I actually play, but I have some educated guesses, including:
-The Always Doing Intense Home Renovation Projects Family
-The Skinny Lanky Pale Family
-The Wears Spandex To Go On A Bike Ride Family
-The Crazy About Everything In Their Yard Family
-The Runs Around The Block With A Canister Of Mace While Listening To Justin Beiber On Her I-Pod Lady (No one really knows about the second part, but it's an important part of who I am)
Oh, and you've heard of Little Orphan Annie, right? Well, meet Little Stalker Doggy, who's all up in my biznezz, all the time.
If it wasn't so darn adorable, I might be annoyed. But who--WHO--finds cuteness to be annoying?