In the neighborhood

We were sitting at the kitchen table, the spousal unit and I, talking about things and such, you know, the neighborhood, plants, people. Anyway, I’m mentioning people I talk with as I’m digging in the garden out front, and they are strolling by, or driving by and stop to chat, when Keith interrupts my repartee, “In what parallel dimension is all this taking place?”

Well, you would have to know me to understand the comment. As a general rule, I don’t talk with others. There is just too much energy that has to be expended in the maintenance of even the smallest of social gatherings, and I don’t have that kind of energy.

 So, I’ve kept to myself these many years.

But something has happened to me since moving here. A spiritual awakening, if you please. I actually look forward to going out for a stroll in the neighborhood in anticipation of meeting-up with one or two of the neighbors (this is a small town, so even if they don’t live on our block, they are neighbors).

Let me see now, there is George, across the street - he lives alone so he looks out his window a lot, harmless; Ron and his Garden Lady, Chris; Janet lives around the corner, you remember, the one with the dog that roams the yard without a leash: Whatever-her-name is; we met Steve a few weeks back - he lives down by the river with his wife, and teaches at the same school he attended; Peggy from the Nursery; Cathy, the local Realtor; Libby, our Banker, always at the ready to give Oz a Biscuit when we go in the Bank. You heard right. Ozzy goes in pretty much everywhere, and everyone loves Ozzy; Sandy, the friendly Jehovah‘s Witness; Bob, the produce manager at the Safeway; Don the Diner; Julie on the corner, next door, with her dog Tahoe - she is a school teacher.

And then there are the people I only know by sight: the old man with the white beard; the other next door neighbor - Hippy with the long white hair. He is kind of standoffish, but I can relate so I’ll just keep waving and smiling; and the young girl pushing a stroller with her two, age under-five, children.

Anyway, whilst I was talking, Keith had this stupefied look about him. Like we were in the Twilight Zone or something.

What? I can’t talk with people?

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