duck-shaped pain

28 May 2001
I Hate The Neighbors, No. 67 in a Series

At work yesterday (yes, I had to go in on Sunday), there was no beef. Looks like someone found a home for their cow. Now I can start filling the fridge with forgotten fruit and half-eaten lunches once again.


The office is now nearly complete. I managed to drag my stereo in by myself (no mean feat, since it's pretty heavy and a really awkward shape), and now it and all the records and all the CDs are reunified. It's been awhile since I had them all in the same place, so now I feel nearly overwhelmed with choice. So far, I've celebrated by not listening to anything, since I haven't been able to decide what to play first.

The speakers, thanks to the random arrangement of outlets in the room (specially designed by whoever the hell built this house), are now inconveniently next to one of the windows. Which means I have to keep it sort of quiet. Or maybe not. Our neighbors (maybe the annoying ones next door, maybe the ones right in back of them -- it's hard to tell) have an unpleasant tendency to play their radio loud whenever they're outdoors, whenever they're inside or whenever they're gone. In other words, constantly. And, because they're irritating All About The Hits People [1], I can't stand whatever it is that they're playing.

Others consulted about the problem have suggested that I play something right back at them, like classical music or non-stop NPR. I don't think so -- that would be barely effectual and sort of a half-assed solution to their problem. I think something more powerful is in order. A good dose of East Jesus or Spy vs. Spy: John Zorn Plays the Music of Ornette Coleman would not just annoy them -- it would make them sell their house overnight.

I am the worst neighbor.


[1] Nothing wrong about such stuff as background music in big chain stores, coming out of other people's car windows, or even for listening to personally when there's nothing else around, but playing constantly outside? No thanks.

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