|
Good fences, good neighbours
03/06/2008 13:01 - (SA)
David Moseley
It was only a matter of time before the ire of the middle class was raised thanks to the displaced living in, if not their back yards, then close enough to ruin the view. In my experience the helpful are always willing to help as long as they don't really have to see the problem.
Now with a couple of tented camps popping up across the way the good Samaritans are having a good old moan. Here's a blanket, take some baked beans, sure I'll clean out my cupboard for old clothes, just as long as the problem stays out of sight we'll gladly help.
Neighbours, maybe not so much these days because we sprint from our cars into our homes, make a neighbourhood. Back in the day, in my gran's old neighbourhood, everyone knew everyone. You knew which garden you could climb into to get your soccer ball back and you knew which garden was off limits because the retired commandant was likely to take a shot at you with his blunderbuss as soon as you stepped on his well-manicured lawn.
Now if you're lurking around your own home the neighbours are more likely to call the cops or simply avoid eye contact in case you ask them for something. Hi there. Sorry man, I don't have any change. No dude, I live next door. Oh yes, of course.
Eyes wide shut
I don't often spend time at home during the week. Yesterday I wasn't feeling so hot, so I stayed in bed. I would have been better off in the office. I'm now convinced that the block of flats across the road is a Tik den of inequity. At least every five minutes the doorbell would shriek out from the other side of the road. Muffled voices followed and a car would speed off. There was a lot of activity for a Monday.
Next door, directly opposite my flat, there's an old dear who potters to and fro. I can't quite make out whether she's Dutch, German or an ancient Scot from the northern north with an indecipherable accent. She doesn't say much, but when she does say hello I always get the impression that it's because she wouldn't mind boiling my head in the cabbage stew she's incessantly brewing.
Upstairs live the Germans. There's obviously not a lot of sunshine in Germany because every time there's a break in the clouds the three of them barrel down into the courtyard with as little kit on as possible. This would be cool if they all looked like Claudia Schiffer. They don't. So it's very uncool.
There are some dudes in my complex who I think are also hardcore Eastern European ravers. Both of them have got disturbingly shaved heads and fix you with earnest stares when you say hi. I think they think I'm after their e or something. Round about 23:00 every night they plug in their Deep Funk House mix, so it's good luck sleeping then.
Still, no one in my 'hood can compete with the wailing that comes out number 11. She's either a prostitute with some mad sex skills, or she's just really upset and groans a helluva lot. I'm going with the former. It makes for a better story.
Send your comments to David.
Disclaimer: News24 encourages freedom of speech and the expression of diverse views. The views of columnists published on News24 are therefore their own and do not necessarily represent the views of News24. News24 editors reserve the right to edit or delete any and all comments received.
- News24
|
