Snooze Button Dreams
Snooze Button Dreams
Snooze Button Dreams
July 03, 2006
The neighbors
(Category: Cheeses of Nazareth )

I can’t fully explain my hatred for them. I can’t complain about the way they maintain their house or their landscaping, it’s almost perfect. They don’t have parties, they’re not too noisy and they pressure clean the sidewalks. But they are indeed strange people.

I’ve been in this house about five years now and up until last month we’ve never really spoken. Almost every time I’m coming or going I see one of them skulking over there. I always wave and smile, just in case, because that’s the kind of guy I am. If they happen to glance up they will return a wave but you can tell it’s taxing them. Some people just don’t exude warmth.

I’ve always suspected they’re up to no good. For one thing they’re always pacing up and down the sidewalk in front of they’re house on the phone. It’s not a cell phone either; it’s just the cordless phone from the house. And though I’ve heard them speak English they also mumble in a tongue that I can’t identify, though I suspect it’s Greek.

In the last week I noticed an addition to the family. An old man in a wife-beater that sits in a lawn chair out front all day. It’s very classy. Of course there’s nothing anyone can do about it. There’s no bi-law in the HOA rules that says an old man can’t sit out front in his undershirt all day like a fucking Turkish coppersmith or something. And now that the long summer evenings have arrived the new ritual is for the whole clan to bring their lawn chairs out back every night, face them towards my house, and watch me barbeque. They simply stare at me. The first time I go out there I’ll give a quick wave and one of them will return it, but that’s the extent of our communication. I can’t begin to tell you how uncomfortable it is.

One night about two years ago I overheard an argument while I was taking out the trash. It was one of the few times I actually heard anything from that direction. It was the younger one and he seemed to be dressing down the rest of them. The one clear statement I heard, repeated twice, was, “That’s worshipping false idols!” He was screaming it at the top of his voice.

On that note I retreated to the relative safety of my couch and wondered if I should fire a couple of warning shots through their front bay window. Kind of a preemptive strike on whatever brand of insanity may have brewing been over there. My wife reasoned against it as she’s wont to do on those infrequent occasions when I become agitated.

Since then I have suspected they are some type of Christian crazies. Whenever I hear a family argument about “worshipping false idols” I suspect the worst. One of them probably bought a garden gnome or something and it set off the crazy factor.

I remain vigilant.

Posted by Paul! | Permalink | TrackBack (0)
Comments

Well, if they are in fact Greek, that's too bad. Firstly, because Greeks have been known to make some really outstanding food; and since yours happen to be somewhat loony, I assume you won't be dining with them anytime soon. Secondly, because they're probably Greek Orthodox (Eastern Orthodox). Among the main differences are that these guys say the liturgy in Greek, trace their bloodline back to Jesus through apostolic succession, and are big on ornate two-dimensional icons but equally dismiss three-dimensional icons as idol worship. If that doesn't pique your curiosity, you might find it interesting that some customarily dig up the remains of their dead several years later, deeming some of these relics of sainthood if they display little sign of decay.

So yeah, your neighbors might be a little - off. But you really should see if you can work your way into a free pan of baklava or maybe even a little potato salad. Greeks make great potato salad.

Posted by: shank at July 3, 2006 09:07 AM

Start leaving boxes of Turkish Taffy on their porch.

Posted by: Ted at July 3, 2006 09:26 AM
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