I want to rant. I want to shout out to everyone about what happens in our neighborhood (I affectionately call “The Sac”) and how jaw-dropping some of it is. I want to rant and blow each and every one of you away about some of the egocentric, disrespectful, and yet seemingly ‘nice’ neighbors we have and what they do.
But I can’t. Nope. I was stupid enough brilliant enough when I started this blog to reach into the future in my mind’s eye and see all the damage I would do with such rants. I decided that extended family and neighbors were definitely out of bounds. What was I thinking!?!?
Half, okay maybe ¾ of what ticks me off has happened recently in our neighborhood. (pulling out my hair – ouch). My heart is screaming, “Tell them, just tell them. They won’t believe it either”, sign. But I can’t. I can, however, tell you things about the city/neighborhood I live in.
Some of it is great. Where we used to live (we moved a year ago) on the other side of this metropolis wonderland, everyone was down to earth. They (we) were part of the true middle class; struggling to make a better life for themselves and their children.
We all understood hard work, rewards, and discipline. We all disciplined our children, disciplined similarly and, (probably what is most important) we were respectful of each other. We respected family time, each other’s space, each other’s property, and each other’s values. We treated each other as we would want to be treated. Success and feeling happy is about more than money only. We looked out for each other. We cared. We didn’t want to step on toes and we had fun. (I miss you guys!)
Cementville (as I affectionately call the metropolis) is populated with the entire range of the middle class that probably all have their college degrees and applied to middle-class jobs. You have a small, very small amount, of lower middle class, a large amount of middle-middle class and what seems to be an ever-increasing amount of upper middle class.
Upper, upper middle class; those ones are the ones that get us. They take over. They manage to drive their (I won’t rant about vehicles) cars/trucks/SUV’s as though they’re oblivious to anyone else’s existence; they’re appalled that someone would be upset when they’ve stopped in the middle of a busy road and then jammed on the accelerator, crossing 3 lanes of traffic and subjecting every one of the other vehicles they cut off to brake slamming.
They’re surprised that they shouldn’t take their time at the library book drop off, rearranging their vehicles and making everyone else wait. They’re shocked that it would be polite to assist, ever so slightly in holding the door for 1/3 of a second for those behind them in a store. And we live near some of them.
Since we’ve moved neighborhoods (which we couldn’t do without an insane amount of help from someone else and a lot of search engine marketing exploring), we’ve had the gamut of experiences. We’ve met some incredibly nice people, some quirky but loveable people, some down to earth, some gossipy, some who want to just get away from it all. But in general, everything is different. Even the dogs seem even more…..spoiled.
Alex never hit dogs before we move here. Now, after his experiences here, it’s hard for him to tell if a dog is going to knock him or his sister over, lick or jump on him, so he hits them. Violet has slipped and fallen in dog shit crap in our front yard, by our front porch, where neighborhood dogs play; one dog, in particular, jumped on the eldest member of The Sac, ripping her skin to the point that she needed to go to Urgent Care and received butterfly stitches because her skin was too frail for regular stitches; she now rarely comes out at all much less when that dog is out. So it is sort of art of storytelling to them to balance their experiences with my work and keeping my relationship healthy.
The dogs aren’t leashed and they constantly run up to hesitant owners of leashed dogs that are being walked. They aren’t controlled. They aren’t disciplined. They are spoiled and their owners just don’t seem to know any better.
Yesterday, I walked outside and found Violet (tall and skinny and 22 months old) laying on the grass at the feet of 2 of the dog owners with 3 large dogs on top of her…one in particular. HELLO!!!!! That dog was shooed off and Violet was able to get up and away. She then told me last night that she had an “owie”. She said, “xx bite” and put her hand in her mouth. She had a puncture mark on her hand from a dog tooth. AAAHHH! I’m livid. I’m getting a life again! Where’s the wine?
What do you do when someone believes everyone loves their dog as they do? As a human? What do you do when someone just doesn’t get it? What do you do when someone sees nothing wrong with what they do? Is it the class factor? Is it The Sac factor? What is it and what should I do? I guess this is where creative ideas come from. Or maybe not…
Please know we love dogs, we love animals. This isn’t about that. This was by no means meant to be a rant about my neighbors. Rather it’s a rant about how different classes of people may view things differently. In there somewhere is the point of protecting my daughter, my children and figuring out how to best live in a place that we don’t seem to match up with and make the best of it for our kids. Your input about your experiences or any advice or view of reference would be appreciated.