Last night, I visited my neighbors.
I live in a duplex that shares a courtyard with a large house that has been subdivided into some pretty nice apartments. And I’ve lived here a long time (17 years). Although we are literally across the street from a college campus (St. Thomas University), we had never had students living here.
Until Katy found the place in an unusual nearly vacant state last summer. And alerted her friends. We are now Animal House from time to time.
Katy lives downstairs. Last night I attended a Mardi Gras charity function with friends and co-workers, until I excused myself early (9:30) because I really wasn’t feeling too hot (I wonder if I won the auction on that bottle of wine). Home by 10:30, I was just going to peruse the board and drift off to a welcome sleep. I was aware of some energy at depth, but chose to ignore it.
The energy continued to build until, at 12:15, with things downstairs proceeding at concert level, I decided to go downstairs.
I knocked on the door, not expecting anyone to hear it. Katy answered, and before I got a word out of my mouth, she exclaimed, “Hey y’all! It’s my cool neighbor Ringo!” Hooking me by the arm, she continued, “C’mon hon, let me get you a beer.”
In the cold light of the next day, I remembered college party economics and recalled that I was probably dipping into someone’s beer stash. Well, they were just paying their Older Neighbor Who’s Not Going To Shut You Down tax.
Anyway, I had a good time. Everyone was friendly, and several remembered me from the New Year’s Eve party that I crashed. College parties are exactly as they were 30 years ago; I mean, down to the music, even - they were playing Hendrix and Bob Marley. I finally left them in hootenanny mode ~2:30. Should I be partying with people younger than my friends’ kids?
I expect Katy will do well in life.
