Monday, November 14, 2005

Rules of the Suburbs

There are many rules for living in the suburbs. I've been driving artificially slow waiting for the proverbial ball to roll into the street. We've been placing the trash cans far enough from the mailbox so our mailman can pull right up and deliver the mail without having to exit his truck. I've even bought some things from the neighborhood kids. A few weeks ago, I was guilted into purchasing Christmas cards from our neighbor boy. Fred and I won't even be here in December and we generally don't send greeting cards. Even if we did, the card selection was far too cheery. (I went with: "Seasons Greeting, Warmest thoughts and best wishes for a wonderful Holiday and a very happy New Year.") I was afraid that if I didn't buy them our house would be over-looked by the Neighborhood Watch. I'm much more vulnerable here than I was in San Francisco. In the Creek, my desk is right in front of the window. By the time the little pushers are on the porch, it's too late. I've been detected. In San Francisco, I was on the second floor with a gate and a buzzer. Although there were no kids, the political activists that came knocking had no idea I was peering out my window at them. I could even scream out my window at car alarms or partiers and no one knew who was yelling. I kind of miss that anonimity. It's another life here in the suburbs. I already feel like a foreigner and I haven't even left the country yet.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Well there goes your ability to not send out holiday cards this year to everyone on your Blog list!! Otherwise, you're going to be getting a lot of "Where's my card??!! I know you bought them - you can't fool me!!" Well, at least you'll get that from me! Hmm... although I've never been much of a guilt tripper - but for you, my friend, I'll make an exception just this once!! :-)
Paula

Mom said...

No cards, tisk tisk, I wonder who did you get that from?? I missed those witty editorials of yours. Glad to see you are blogging again.

Mary said...

This is were having children comes in handy. First of all, I rarely answer my door. It is usually the boy across the street wanting to play with TJ. TJ does not want to play with this boy, perhaps if the boy's mother bought him shorts that hit below the knee, he would be more socially desirable. Even my husband, who tells me I am too harsh on people, calls this boy Urkel. Anyway, on the rare occasion I forget about Urkel and answer my door to find a miniature salesperson, I tell them I have a child doing the same fundraiser. It works like a charm. Feel free to use your nieces and nephew in this way anytime.

David said...

So long suburbs . . . hello Paris! Hope your trip was safe. Email us soon and let us know how you are doing. I added a link to your site to my site so I can keep track of you, so you better post often and let us know what's going on!