How well do you know thy neighbors? Are you on first-name basis? Are you sure those are their real names? When you hold a glass against the wall, do you hear abnormal things going on next door? Are you using the night-vision camcorder when darkness sets in, just in case? Do they grow stuff in the living room that you will not let your children smoke? You see, maybe you really don't know thy neighbors as well as you think you do; scary thought, huh?
Moses wobbled down from the mountain hacking away on the tablets, and this whole neighbor bit got eternalized in the process. (In that deep Moses voice): thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbour's. That's what it says. Essentially Moses wanted you to know that it's a no-no to make-out with the neighbor’s wife and especially not covet, meaning desire, thy neighbor’s ass. I sincerely hope he was referring to a certain brand of horse; but even then, that is still an extremely disturbing image.
Of course Moses thought of all people around us to be our neighbors and I think that is nice. Though he made up some basic rules, he trusted we would all get along and I think overall that we do. But it is also peculiar how we in many cases can live in close proximity of each other without really connecting and communicating; not getting to know thy neighbor. Sure we go HI and GREAT DAY and borrow all kinds of tools and equipment that we don’t return for years. We borrow a few eggs here and there, a bit of milk and a few ounces of that stuff they grow in the living room; and then we return the favors and all is grand – or is it?
A neighbor dude who lived across from us pretty much kept to himself. We never acknowledged each other in passing, because he didn’t respond to some of my initial: “we-just-moved-in” greetings some 20 years ago; yes, 20 years of two-way ignoring. I have absolutely no idea what his name was (he moved last year), what he did legally or illegally – no clue. And that is a sad statement because I’m outgoing and friendly to the point of being annoying (but in such a charming way). So instead, I let my imagination run wild; he went from being a secret agent, sex-offender, drug dealer (though he didn’t look the part and drove a VW – diesel), to the casual cross-dresser; all based on assumptions - and then he moved.
We had another neighbor on the west-side of our house; she moved a while back. We always chatted across the fence, so-to-speak and she came over with one of her daughters for dinner ONCE in 18 years. I had a drink at her house ONCE in 18 years. But we loved each other and still do, and we do have a lot of fun the few times we run into each other. Isn’t that weird in a sad kind of good way?
We simply adore our neighbor on the east-side of our house. We have been friends since we moved in. Love her dearly and can always count on her helping out, as she can count on us. We don’t overload each other by “stopping by” often, but once in a while its dinner, some bottles of wine, good food and really great times – and then nothing for months; but that’s also okay, it really is. In case you are wondering, I do believe she is using her real name. But perhaps I should Google her (instead of keep goggling her from behind closed curtains – I really gotta stop doing that).
In the perfect world (there’s an idea) we should socialize more with the people on the street where we live, interact with the kids and pets; get together with the other tenants in the apartment complex, etc. I truly believe that is where it all starts, that thing about accepting and respecting diversities and coexist more harmoniously. Many people tell me that’s how they do things where they live, that they actually co-mingle with people in the neighborhood - and isn’t that awesome?
And then there are neighbors who had a spat in the past and do not talk, greet or borrow stuff from each other for years on end. When we consider how simple it is to make up (not make-out, because Moses will come after you and smack you over the head with one of the tablets), it’s sad that we can’t act like mature adults, as the fumes of spat add daily stress where no stress is warranted. Don’t you agree?
My wife and I are fairly private people. We don’t have loads of friends (remember from a previous post, I have 14 Facebook friends and I only know 4 of them) and our life is full as is and very pleasant. But I wouldn’t mind a Fourth of July get-together of our street’s neighbors; just assemble for a few moments, some good BBQ ribs, some cold beer and lively chats. But I also realize it will never happen, because I’m not doing a thing about it either – and that is kind of sad.
I think we should at least know our neighbors beyond HI and GREAT DAY. I’m not asking you to love thy neighbor, just get to know them if you don’t know them already. Some you’ll like and some you won’t, but that’s just the chance we take trying – I think it’s certainly worth it. I will make an effort – I really will.
There are some good stuff on those tablets Moses brought down the mountain side. But that thing about thy neighbor’s ass still bothers me. As ass is literally etched in stone, I’m sure Mo has been teased a bunch about that one through the years. Next time he will no doubt be more careful in his choice of words and perhaps check with Webster’s Dictionary before he starts hammering away; he’ll find that donkey or small horse with long ears, might work better. But whatever the ass is called, that picture is still very disturbing - don’t you agree?
Have a grand week and check back next Monday – please.
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