Neighborhood Watch 2.0

It’s the MacGyver of door peepholes. The caller-ID of doors. You’ll never miss the Prize Patrol from Publisher’s Clearinghouse ever.

Supposed to help you answer the door in case you’re in your backyard, in the garage, in the bathroom, or just out and about.

Ring.

One of the best doorbells on Earth for people who don’t want to answer the door. You don’t even have to get up from you Netflix binge watching session to check who’s at the door or what they want.

A lot of places put them on their front door steps to make sure no one tries anything funny. Although the backyard, or alley way is something they like scoped out too. A whole security system.

But people still try funny things.

Amazon packages are still being taken in mad dashes, now you just have a picture of the hoodie suspect and the police still won’t do anything for you. Just file a report. Nothing much else. Unless you have one of those awesome pop-up glitter explosions with a camera so you can see the thief’s face as they unwrap the trap you sent them.

But other than watching people steal packages from your doorstep, or see how many people park outside your house, or visit your neighbor across the street, it also provides the most intense neighborhood watch program I’ve seen ever.

My friend says that there are multiple crime bulletins posted, people put their captures, pictures, or videos of thieves stealing their packages, shoes, bikes, mail and mailboxes. Warnings posted of car break-ins or stealing catalytic converters, which apparently is a popular item. Sometimes just random people trying to open their doors at 4 a.m.

Who does that? Who’s awake at 4 a.m. trying to unlock doors?

People who aren’t afraid of getting punched in the face or confronted with a hostile encounter if they wake anyone up at 4 a.m.

But Neighborhood Watch 2.0 Steroids Edition has got your mug shot and description. They’re taking notes and passing it along. People see you in daytime and nighttime hours. Got your stats and they’re posting it everywhere. So if you haven’t been caught it’s only a matter of time, unless you’re Batman.

They got it all on camera, just in case. But don’t ever know if the case is ever solved. But Ring Neighbors are onnnnnnnnn it. They report crimes, speak to the police, get incident maps alerting them of new crimes, get alerts of suspicious activity within a five-mile radius perimeter, post announcements. Lost pet? They probably have his mug shot posted within seconds.

A friend of mine has had one for over a year and I’ve seen them popping up everywhere in neighborhood and city. There’s an app that’s attached to your phone and you have instant viewing. Everything is recorded.

So if you think you’re alone walking the streets, think again. The neighborhood is watching. And the community is getting larger, and I imagine more intense. Don’t think you can steal someone’s 30-day supply Metamucil and special order diabetic socks and not have someone stop you at the 7-11 and say hey I saw you stealing someone’s packages the other day. What the hell?

In the time of coronavirus, I guess it’s still important to feel a sense of community and help your neighbor out. People trying to look out for each other, even if it’s digitally. I mean who doesn’t want the Amazon package theft to go down? You’ve become the best nosy neighbor ever and you didn’t even have to look out the window. Ring has elevated your status.

Buen Camino my friends!

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Christmas Starts A Little Too Early

I don’t know why it irritated me. It shouldn’t have, I mean it really wasn’t any of my business.  I mean people should get into the spirit, right? But … dude … when your Thanksgiving leftover turkey isn’t even in the fridge? C’mon now. I’d expect this from places like the mall, but not a neighbor’s house. Although I could expect anything from the redhead in 2B.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the Christmas spirit, but what’s up with this holiday interrupting the Thanksgiving spirit. I mean not that I want to savor the dysfunctional family moments of the gobble-gobble feast, but let me enjoy the “what-I’m-thankful-for” moments without hearing jingle bells. I mean sometimes the holiday even infringes on the Halloween spirit. Decorations going up everywhere while Jack-O-Lanterns are still out.

But the redhead in 2B waited until Thanksgiving night to put up her decorations. By Friday morning she had her Merry Christmas sign posted on the door, her Christmas tree in the window, her garlands wrapped around the staircase, stockings hanging, and her “Santa Clause is Coming to Town” tune blaring.

Image via christmaswow.com

I blame this on Black Friday. The insanity of the Christmas season is upon us where shoppers go wild and neighbors go to crazy lengths to try to outdo each other on the best decorated house. The redhead in 2B has set the stage. I can’t wait until the mom in 3A sets up her Merry Christmas. It’s an awesome battle of Fa-la-la-la-la spirit where Mariah Carey’s Christmas CD battles Josh Groban’s Christmas collections, and where the Michael’s store makes out the best because both ladies shop there all the time. What happened to simple decorations and ornaments made out of Popsicle sticks that made their appearance on December 1st?

I like to begin my decorating process in December. I feel like October belongs to Halloween, November belongs to Thanksgiving, and Christmas should really stay in December. But that’s just me. Some people … they can’t wait. The spirit comes early and the competition for the best house begins. Redhead in 2B has got a jump on the neighborhood. But I keep myself out of it. I’m not much for Christmas competitions, but I always enjoy the Martha Stewart and Clark Griswold efforts of everyone in the neighborhood. Well … everyone that starts after November.

 

The Red-Head in Apartment 3B

You’re unpacking your car and they’re out there in the open.

Neighbors.

Most of the time they’re friendly. They give you the nod. The wave. The hello. They let you borrow butter. Sometimes they’re too friendly, chatting it up like they’re your best friend trying to get latest gossip. However, other times they’re your nemesis and you do whatever you can to avoid them.

In any case you know you’re place. You know the relationship. You know the good, the bad, and the ugly and you respond accordingly. But what happens when you get the phony? You know, the one that smiles and says hello, how are you one day, and then completely ignores you the next. You know, they look right at you and pretend you’re invisible, and you look like a dumbass with your smile and your hello-hand up in the air.  What the hell?

I’m not a fan of this sometimes-I-say-hi-to-you neighbor. You either say it or you don’t. I can’t be guessing the type of mood your in, I’m not a mind-reader 3B.

I understand that the neighbor relationship is a tricky one. It has many stages. Sometimes you start off as best buds, you know watching each others cats when you’re out of town, or watering your plants. Then you have the basic pleasant conversation at the mailbox, nothing deep, but regular friendly chit-chat about the growth spurts of your kid, your dog’s diet, or what gym you’ve been going to because apparently you look great. However some neighbor relationships are just the quick hello-how-are-you what’s-up-with-this-crazy-weather conversation. Then you have the half-smile and nod relationship. And finally you have the I know you live near me, but I don’t think we have anything in common so I’m just going to ignore you neighbor.

It happens. you have someone for every category. You get over it if someone chooses not to talk to you, no big deal.

However what happens when you have a neighbor that began with the smile and hello, then progressed to the conversation by the mailbox, then it transformed to the ignoring part … all in the span of a month. What’s up with that? Crazy neighbor.

This was 3B.

I wasn’t buddy-buddy with 3B, far from it. We were just hello-how-are-you neighbors. That’s it. But then I noticed her Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Hyde disorder. You know…nice to you one day, and then completely pretend you’re not there the next.

I’m not a big fan of that. If you talk to me, great. If you don’t, you don’t. But I don’t like these mind games. These half-assed salutations. So … 3B … if you’re going to say hello, say it, and say it consistently, otherwise keep walking. I don’t have time for phonies or half-assed hellos. I’ve got gray hair and my time is valuable. Dude. My hellos are valuable.

Hmph.

Neighbors. An interesting group.

 

Tarzan’s Wife and Brownies

 I haven’t really had good neighbors since we left “La Vecindad”.

This is the place where I grew up. The apartment building with nine units, nine families and everybody knew everybody. It was a community. Except for the people in apartment #1. That was sort of the transition apartment, where people usually lived about a year and then moved on to different places.

We had parties and everyone came out and celebrated. Some brought pozole, some rice and beans, and others blasted the cumbia music with their Sanyo Speakers. Everyone brought out their vinyl kitchen chairs and we enjoyed the festivities until the late night.

Nowadays, I can’t even ask people for salt.

In the past seven years I’ve moved four times, and nothing has been like La Vecindad family. Everyone keeps to themselves. Some people say hi to you one day and then completely ignore you the next. Others just give you the nod and then there are some who are just stuck up. 

So with my previous experiences, this current little visit from my parents’ neighbor surprised me. As you may know I am temporarily staying at my parents house and they have a couple of neighbors that fit every mold.

They have the dog-walking people who like you because you also have dog, and often strike up conversation about how well your dog looks for her age.

Then you have the older ladies, that often look out their window like they’re the captains of the Neighborhood Watch. They wake up at five o’clock in the morning and sweep their empty drive way, or pick up the one leaf that fell on the floor.

They also have the weed-smoking people who blame the smell on the rocker chick with the two cats, but it’s probably the seventy-year old couple with glaucoma.

They are all pretty neighborly, I guess.

But this neighbor … this one can borrow salt any time.  

I heard a knock at the door and didn’t really know who it was, I mean the UPS chick had already stopped by, and the Sparkletts dude didn’t come by until tomorrow. I just saw some lady with blond hair through the peep-hole.

I opened the door. It was Tarzan‘s wife. Yeah Tarzan. My parents happen to be neighbors with some dude that used to play Tarzan in some of those old movies back in the 60s. He was pretty well-known, I guess. I never knew my parents knew Tarzan.

Anyhow, his wife happen to stop by because she wanted to ask me a question.

Do you like chocolate?

Do I like chocolate! She hasn’t known me that long.

As I smiled and said of course, she showed me the large Ziploc bag that she had at her side. It was filled with bite-sized brownies — The Petite Brownie Bites from Costco.

Image via Sugarbowlbakery.com

Ohhhhhhhh.

Have you ever had these? They are awesome. They are from something called Sugar Bowl Bakery and if you like chocolate you know what I’m talking about.

She bought a Costco-sized box and said that if she didn’t give any away she might eat the whole tub herself.

What’s wrong with that, right?

I mean I’ve done it before. Just walk it off the next day.

But apparently she did not think having the entire tub of brownies in her house was a good idea, so she was wondering if I wanted the dozen that she had in the bag. She tried to encourage me by suggesting that I could give some to my son.

I didn’t need any encouragement. 

I ate the whole bag while watching Person of Interest. It’s an hour-long drama. I was done half-way through the show. I couldn’t help myself.

Tarzan’s wife rocks. She’d be fine in La Vecindad.