Thursday, November 26, 2015

Thanksgiving Morning in the Ghetto

7:30 in the morning the chainsaw starts up. The renters next door are at it again.
They're notorious for throwing huge, loud obnoxious parties with people parked up and down the street. They always have at least 4 cars in the driveway and parked on the lawn. What was once a nice neighborhood is going G.H.E.T.T.O.
So I get dressed, walk over there and say "I think I'm a nice neighbor. I'm a nice neighbor, right? I am quiet? Polite?" They nod their assent from the open garage. "Well then can you please just not saw wood on THANKSGIVING MORNING," I say as sweetly as possible through gritted teeth.
Ma Kettle looks at Pa Kettle in astonishment. "We haven't been using a chainsaw," she says, as if anyone could not know a chainsaw was just revved up in their backyard. Pa Kettle nods grimly. "I'm sawing wood for the smoked turkey," he says and looks at me as if this answer solves everything and now that I know WHY they're doing it, all should be OK.
"OK, the noise ordinance is til 9. I'm trying to sleep in. Can it wait til 9?" I ask. Pa Kettle looks astonished. "Well we HAVE to have it for the turkey," he explains. "I guess we can saw the wood IN the garage, instead." This will not cut down the noise in the least, as it's only feet away from where they're currently sawing. I point this out. They look baffled and tell me that they don't know what to do. "How about NOT sawing wood early in the morning?" I suggest.
"Well what time IS it," asks Ma Kettle of Pa Kettle. He looks at a clock. "8 o'clock," says Pa. Ma looks at me triumphantly, as if this somehow proves me to be highly irrational. "Yes," I say, "but you started at 7:30."
"Well while we're at it," says Ma Kettle, "You have a tree limb hanging over our fence. It could fall on one of our guests and brain them." I quietly wish it would fall on ALL of them, but simply say "Have you talked to the owners about this?"
"No but it's YOUR tree," says Ma Kettle.
"Have you talked to the owners about this?" I repeat patiently.
"No," admits Ma.
"OK, call the owners and ask them to call me," I say simply and turn away. Game over. I would sincerely doubt they'll call the owners, as this would expose what they're doing to their property.