BEING NEIGHBORLY

Once upon a time there lived a man in a quiet neighborhood. He was a child of the sixties, had a dog named "Layla" and he liked to sit outside in his backyard drinking beer and listening to CD's or the radio. He was very generous in his music, playing it loudly enough so that all his neighbors could hear it. The family next door to him didn't even have to open their windows to hear the Stones, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Clapton, etc. His music was available to everyone in the neighborhood at all times of the day and night. There were times when a certain neighbor would call him and explain that they weren't really in the mood to listen at 11:30 PM on a Wednesday or Monday night. To which he would reply, "You need to get a life!"

This neighbor had two black dogs, who would roam around outside in the front yard, and be on the look-out for vulnerable, smaller dogs. People had witnessed Layla and friend going after other dogs. Not a pretty sight.

Last night after 9:30 PM, he was heard using his blower in the street, clearing his curb. He had not mowed his yard or edged. His next door neighbor looked out the front window to see him blowing all the "stuff" from his curb into the neighbor's curb. This would not have been disturbing, except that he always did that. As she looked out her front window to witness this, he caught a glimpse of her watching him. He proceeded to walk up his drive as if he were finished. After a few minutes, neighbor lady could hear it again....went to the window and found he was at it again.

Perhaps she will buy him a broom and a dustpan for Christmas. Or maybe, she will reciprocate tonight and blow it all back to him.