Archives for posts with tag: Neighbors

Walking to the bus stop this morning I came to a crosswalk with a waist high snow-berm. A tiny mountain created by man and weather. Six inches of snow added to our already healthy snowpack this week and, without the chance to melt, there is nowhere to put it. Homeowners shovel their sidewalks, the city plows the street, and the crosswalks are fucked.

No one is to blame.

Across the street from the tiny mountain, the homeowner had carved a shovel’s width path through the mountain. I walked luxuriously through like a carefree summer version of myself. Nothing more than a dusting of snow between my boots and concrete.

I’m not sure what the standards are for crosswalks but from the climbing adventures around my neighborhood, I’m guessing there is no legal requirement to keep them clear. And I don’t blame the homeowners. Or the city. I wouldn’t want to hack through the ice formations that snow plows and mother nature conspire to create.

I am, however, quite grateful for those corner houses who look out for those of us walking around in this miserable weather. Thanks, friends.

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Last week, as the drunken folks walked home from the bars, some kid yelled, “Anything is possible!”

Today I saw this:

*A Garfield on Garfield Street.

The wariness I once felt for the roving bands of neighborhood teenagers might have been misplaced.

We woke this morning to a message from the downstairs neighbors that my bike had been stolen. At five AM they were woken by a racket outside, specifically, a saw going through chain (yeah this thief had balls, no tiptoeing about it). Anyway, they hollered and called the cops and he ran off but he had already taken my bike. He hadn’t yet sawed through the girlfriend’s lock:

I find myself not as angry as I’d expect. A little violated but not angry really. There have been a rash of bike thefts in Minneapolis recently, maybe that’s why I’m not mad. I don’t feel singled out or targeted.

There is a corner of my brain holding an outdated idea that when people steal they do so because they need to. The old stealing bread to feed the family concept. I just don’t think this kid needed my bike. I think he WANTED the money he’d get from hawking it.

I’m trying to hold on to the unexpected positivity because I’m afraid to let the uglier feelings in. I don’t want to feel afraid in my home or neighborhood. I don’t want to suspect every teenager walking past. In the end I’m glad we have the kind of neighbors who care enough to holler and call the cops. My warmth for them is filling all that space I expected to fill with anger.  I just hope I can sustain it.

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