Selfishness Knows No Boundaries (Leaves Do)

We live on a small street, with about ten houses. Most of us have been here since the development was built in 1999. On either side of us, we have very nice, friendly neighbors. Across the street, we used to. And then about a year and half ago a new family moved in.

As the prior occupants (Oh how we miss 'em!) moved to Texas, they left me with a key to the house and the garage door remotes, and asked me to watch out for some things. That's what neighbors do. I'm from one of those close communities where everyone knew everyone, and everyone's Mom could holler at you just like your own. Anyway, when these new folks showed up, I went over with the key and the remotes and offered to be of any assistance. The man took the key from me as if I was coming back to return stolen property to him. He seemed uninterested in my offering of neighborly friendship.

From what we can tell, the family consists of a man, a wife, and a son of about 10. The reason I say 'from what we can tell' is that there are always other people running in and out of the house. I don't care, really; if someone doesn't want to be friendly, I'm not going to chase them down and try to change their mind. It's like Yogi Berra said: "If people don't want to come to the ball park, how are you gonna stop them?"

But does it surprise you to learn that these people, about once a month or so, have a big party for their many SUV-driving friends - parties that, as often as not, take place on school nights, and wind up around midnight with kids running around the yard hollering, car remotes chirping, horns honking, and hearty cries of 'good night' ringing in the otherwise-quiet darkness? It's as if they are saying they don't care who else might be trying to sleep at midnight. Their friends are leaving, and they all have to say goodnight and honk their horns and so on.

Just now, I heard some noise outside. I looked to find the man of the house with his power blower outside. Now, the rest of us, when leaf time comes around every autumn, rake 'em up, mulch 'em up or otherwise gather 'em into bags. The County even comes around to pick up those bags once a week. Mr Blows-A-Leaf was out there blowing all his leaves onto the yards of his neighbors on either side and the street out front. His yard is now as leaf-free as the 18th green at Augusta. His neighbors now need help to see their grass, as it is covered with his leaves.

If you're reading this, it's probably because you are a friend or kin of mine, and I am happy to know you because you are NOT the kind of person who does these things. Something must have happened to me as a child to make me absolutely abhor selfishness, or unfair treatment, or people being left out of things. This country needs a lot of cooperation to keep it running, and somehow the very gesture of blowing our unwanted stuff onto someone else's property strikes me as so defiant of good-naturedness. It's the local version of George Bush's foreign "policy.*" It makes me sad, so here's the cure. I am going to spend the next hour or so enumerating all the kind, thoughtful gestures I see every day. It won't take long to outweigh Mr. You-Rake-My-Leaves.

*Sorry, didn't mean to go all "nucular" on ya!