The War Of The West End

I live in a real neighborhood...a bit heavy on the hood at times but people are definitely neighbors here.

We sit on our front porches and talk to one another when the evenings are nice.

One young fellow who's just moved in has made it his mission to mow every lawn on the street...these are big southern yards and he mows them for gas money.

Almost all of us have planted some kind of veggie garden. We lean on the fences and ask about the kids etc.

I like it here it's a very culturally diverse neighborhood.
We have our lesbian couple, the elderly lady who used to teach piano, the nice extended Jamaican family,
the single mom with two teens who're bright, kind spirited souls with great futures - they're going to change the world. A number of young couples with kids and single folks  - most everyone is hardworking and honest. Everyone waves or says hello when they see you out and around.

A bit over two months ago a new neighbor moved in ....you'll remember them from  my Happy Frickin Easter post. After two weeks of polite requests from the neighborhood to please quiet down after two AM things got notched up - the police were out just about every night.
They'd quiet down while the cops were here then crank up louder than ever once they'd left.

We were beginning to look like the living dead as we shuffled around our lawns and went about our daily business.

Porch meetings began to happen. It was war. There was talk of gas cans and matches from the young mother with the newborn but that was just her hormones talking. The police weren't having any affect. So we decided to fight back in our own way.

When they partied til dawn... an hour or so after their guests had dragged home the neighborhood struck back.

Lawns were mowed...all manner of weedwhacker and noise maker was used outside. Lots of hammering happened. The Jamaicans know some steel drum players....they really felt the sudden urge to come over and  practice al-freso (they rocked!). The neighborhood was introduced to Bach, 7 Nations, Alexander James Adams  and Hayseed Dixie (and they didn't lynch me),
The formerly quiet conversations had to be shouted because evidently we're all going a mite hard of hearing....
 Funny how sleep deprivation causes hearing loss even when you're less than a foot away from the other person.

Garbage cans were banged.... a couple of folks actually went out and bought big old fashioned metal cans for just that purpose.

The Elijah Baptist gospel choir came out and practiced  on their choir directors front lawn with very pointed gusto.

We cooked out (hey if you've spent a hard night smokin and partying the aroma of good food might just pry your eyes back open)... and we didn't invite them to share.

We sugared the kids up and turned them loose with water balloons and noisy toys.

The partiers...looking much like zombies packed up various SUVs and a moving van the other day.
Evidently the frantic daytime pace was just too much for their nerves.



Viva La Revolution!