Friday, July 9, 2010
Won't You Be My Neighbor?
Two months ago we packed up and moved into a giant house in West Roxbury. Now for those of you not familiar with the area, it is still technically Boston, although it is about 10 miles outside of the city...and it takes 30 minutes to get into town no matter which direction you go. Despite the Boston, MA address, I call it "the burbs." We have a driveway, a basement and an attic, a yard that necessitates a landscaper, I can't walk to get milk (ok I could, but I would be the first person in the neighborhood to do it), we can't hear our neighbors music or tv when it is on and we have a two car garage. If that doesn't make up a suburban house I don't know what does!
While we lived in Southie, we came to know most of our neighbors, but we all pretty much kept to ourselves (save a few townies that were all up in our business every time we saw them - and were always good for some neighborhood gossip). We would politely say hello of course, but other than their names and where they were from, we really didn't know much about them. I cannot say the same about where we live now.
Now let me first say that everyone on our street is delightfully pleasant and neighborly. No one has yet to keep us up all night with their music and keg stands and beer pong tournaments like in Southie - thankfully all of our neighbors now are at least our age (30-something). Everyone has been more than nice to us cityfolk, and has made the first few months like living on the set of some fabulous tv sitcom filmed on the back lot of MGM studios. But holy hell are these people all up in my bizness...
In the burbs you can't just say hello to people, you have to have an actual conversation with them every time you see them (cut to me getting in my car while the garage is closed and peeling out of my driveway while waving hello from behind the tinted glass). I have even had one terribly personal conversation with one neighbor, who came in my backyard without an invitation one day and somehow we got talking about her pregnancy troubles (um, she had her last two kids in her 50s with IVF and tried to compare my troubles at the age of 30 to hers - huh?). I have had neighbors knock on my door to tell me I left my garage open - twice. Nice of them, but I knew it was open. And today I had a neighbor come over to tell me that I am watering my lawn incorrectly. I guess you aren't supposed to do it during the day, but at night when it is more effective. What the hell do I know about watering the lawn? I of course play the role of friendly new neighbor, because this is a close knit group of people and I don't want to ever get on their bad side or I might get black listed from the holiday block party.
Other than the nosy neighbors, living in the burbs is wicked awesome, as we say here in Boston. Our family can now stay with us whenever they want...I have 5 fabulous grocery stores within a two mile drive...there are kids in every house on the street (future babysitters as I like to call them)...we have a lawn for the pooch to play in...and did I mention the garage? Because we have a garage...a garage! Suck it street cleaning.
I know this post has nothing to do with babies or mamas I just need to vent...
Posted by Mama J