Saturday, July 09, 2011
back yard / rear window
Have you, my dear reader, seen that Hitchcock film where Jimmy Stewart is stuck in his upper floor apartment because he has a broken leg? You know, the one where he passes the time looking out his window watching his neighbors and becomes convinced that one of them murdered his wife? The Simpsons version where Bart sends Lisa into Flanders house is classic.
Well, we're not there yet. But some shenanigans are going on at the house behind ours.
First, some background information. Our house sits on a large corner lot in a neighborhood that was a country subdivision a few miles from the city when it was built in the fifties. Now it is prime centrally located real estate. Our yard is half a block deep. The back of our yard abuts the back yard of the corresponding corner house on the street behind ours. When we moved here in 2006 an elderly couple lived there. Last May I noticed the house was on the market, and within a matter of a week or two somebody else moved in. The new resident immediately replaced a decades old chain link fence with a large wooden fence. No big deal, right? I personally kinda like it as it adds to the privacy of our own back yard.
It was soon after that I began to notice things that seemed odd, but I fancy myself as a great neighbor in that I keep to myself and mind my own business and don't give a rat's ass what you do so long as you do the same and don't bother me. I was curious as to why I saw cars coming and going from the backyard at all hours of the day, what is going on over there? But again, it don't bother me so it ain't my business.
About a month ago, one afternoon there was a knock on the door. It was our new back neighbor. He introduced himself, an Asian fellow, said his name was Vinny. He asked me about the neighborhood, and asked a curious question about if we had a problem with complaints from the neighbors for entertaining guests. While we have frequent visitors, therapists, case managers and what coming to see The Boy, perhaps a friend or two stopping by for an after work beer, we rarely have gatherings at our house that involve more than a few cars. They are easily parked by our house. On the maybe once a year occasion we have a real party, well honestly no, we've never heard a complaint from a neighbor about the parking, traffic or the noise.
He told me that after being in our neighborhood for maybe a couple of weeks, he had already received complaints about all his guests and their cars, that is why he turned his back yard into a parking lot behind a large wooden fence. While I must admit, at first it was an odd sight to see the lights of multiple cars shining through the wooden slats driving around his back yard on those nights where I sit on my patio having a nightcap, playing on the internet at two in the morning, I never heard a peep of noise. So ya got no complaints from me, mister.
The conversation was friendly but strange. But again, your business is just that. You mind yours, I'll mind mind, never the twain shall meet.
Until one night a week or so ago, sometime around midnight.
I let our little dog out one last time before going to bed. Beasty. A yippie little Yorkie. He was a stray The Wife and The Boy found in February. He's misbehaved and ill-mannered. I can't count how many iPod earbuds he's chewed up. But he is cute, sweet, incredibly good natured, and great with The Boy. He's small, shaggy, adorable and endearing as all Hell. I never wanted a damn yippie little dog, but that is a story for another time.
Anyways, Beasty starts freaking out. He's going ballistic at the side of our back yard. I come out to see what is going on and I see two cars, running with parking lights on sitting on the side street. I approach. It's two police cars. What's going on? I am standing there, flashlight in hand in my jammy shorts and shoddy t-shirt when two of my town's finest walk up the side street from the direction of the new neighbor's house:
"Good evening, sir."
"Everything okay officers?"
"Yes. Have a good night."
They get in their cars and drive off.
Hmmm. . . Most curious. . . Police hanging out beside my house in the middle of the night? Can't say I'm exactly a fan of that. What's going on?
Well nothing, at least not then. But I began to take more notice. I'd go by the house and wonder, "I don't remember the garage windows covered with foil when the old folks lived there?"
All the while I resisted the temptation to just go to the back end of my yard and peer over or through the fence. Because again, I wish to respect the privacy of all my neighbors with the expectation that they do the same for me.
That ended around eight Friday night.
There was a knock on the front door. I open. Two cops stand there, the badges pinned to their uniforms were shinier than I thought they would be, more golden less brassy. That scene with Eddie Murphy from "Trading Places" pops into my mind, "Is there a problem, officers?"
They were very polite and cordial, but guarded in their conversation and answers the way police officers are. The asked for permission to enter our back yard to get a better view into the neighbor's.
While it is my general rule that with all due respect officer if you wish to enter my property uninvited well then I wish to invoke my rights so show me the warrant, these guys were clearly on a mission that didn't involve me or my household. So what the heck, hold on a sec, meet me around back and I'll unlock the gate.
As I let them in my back yard they asked me general questions inquiring about my knowledge of the new neighbor. As I spoke one of the officers, the one that appeared younger and the more junior officer jotted down notes on a small pad. They walked in and spent a few minutes at the fence line. They asked if they could use the ladder from The Boy's still not set up above ground pool to get a better view. Sure, go right ahead. I stayed back by the gate, not wanting be viewed as meddlesome or interfering. The younger officer continued to jot things down.
After a few minutes they came back to the gate and politely thanked me with an apology for interrupting my evening. When I asked more directly what was going on, one of them used the phrase "an ongoing investigation." Then they got in their cars and drove off.
What the Hell were they looking at? An ongoing investigation? Of what? Overwhelmed with curiosity, The Wife and I went to have a look for ourselves. There were at least a dozen cars parked in the back yard. Why? What is going on in that house?
I recalled a conversation I had with a street-savvy former coworker five years ago when I told him we were looking at buying a house in this neighborhood: "Be careful, that part of town is controlled by the Asian gangs."
It still feels uncomfortable, as though this is politically incorrect and smacks of racial profiling, but my mind began to wildly speculate as to what was happening behind us. Asian gangs? Drugs? Guns? Prostitution?
Well early this evening I learned the alleged truth and it blew my mind just a little. A fellow resident posted this to our neighborhood's Yahoo! news group: "I wanted to make the community aware that a new owner has taken over the property & is now operating an illegal gambling operation. He turned his back yard into a parking lot & gamblers arrive almost daily from as far away as Oklahoma."
Wow.
Last night at this time there were still over a dozen cars parked in the back yard. Tonight there are zero.
Never a dull moment in the big city.
Wow.
|
Well, we're not there yet. But some shenanigans are going on at the house behind ours.
First, some background information. Our house sits on a large corner lot in a neighborhood that was a country subdivision a few miles from the city when it was built in the fifties. Now it is prime centrally located real estate. Our yard is half a block deep. The back of our yard abuts the back yard of the corresponding corner house on the street behind ours. When we moved here in 2006 an elderly couple lived there. Last May I noticed the house was on the market, and within a matter of a week or two somebody else moved in. The new resident immediately replaced a decades old chain link fence with a large wooden fence. No big deal, right? I personally kinda like it as it adds to the privacy of our own back yard.
It was soon after that I began to notice things that seemed odd, but I fancy myself as a great neighbor in that I keep to myself and mind my own business and don't give a rat's ass what you do so long as you do the same and don't bother me. I was curious as to why I saw cars coming and going from the backyard at all hours of the day, what is going on over there? But again, it don't bother me so it ain't my business.
About a month ago, one afternoon there was a knock on the door. It was our new back neighbor. He introduced himself, an Asian fellow, said his name was Vinny. He asked me about the neighborhood, and asked a curious question about if we had a problem with complaints from the neighbors for entertaining guests. While we have frequent visitors, therapists, case managers and what coming to see The Boy, perhaps a friend or two stopping by for an after work beer, we rarely have gatherings at our house that involve more than a few cars. They are easily parked by our house. On the maybe once a year occasion we have a real party, well honestly no, we've never heard a complaint from a neighbor about the parking, traffic or the noise.
He told me that after being in our neighborhood for maybe a couple of weeks, he had already received complaints about all his guests and their cars, that is why he turned his back yard into a parking lot behind a large wooden fence. While I must admit, at first it was an odd sight to see the lights of multiple cars shining through the wooden slats driving around his back yard on those nights where I sit on my patio having a nightcap, playing on the internet at two in the morning, I never heard a peep of noise. So ya got no complaints from me, mister.
The conversation was friendly but strange. But again, your business is just that. You mind yours, I'll mind mind, never the twain shall meet.
Until one night a week or so ago, sometime around midnight.
I let our little dog out one last time before going to bed. Beasty. A yippie little Yorkie. He was a stray The Wife and The Boy found in February. He's misbehaved and ill-mannered. I can't count how many iPod earbuds he's chewed up. But he is cute, sweet, incredibly good natured, and great with The Boy. He's small, shaggy, adorable and endearing as all Hell. I never wanted a damn yippie little dog, but that is a story for another time.
Anyways, Beasty starts freaking out. He's going ballistic at the side of our back yard. I come out to see what is going on and I see two cars, running with parking lights on sitting on the side street. I approach. It's two police cars. What's going on? I am standing there, flashlight in hand in my jammy shorts and shoddy t-shirt when two of my town's finest walk up the side street from the direction of the new neighbor's house:
"Good evening, sir."
"Everything okay officers?"
"Yes. Have a good night."
They get in their cars and drive off.
Hmmm. . . Most curious. . . Police hanging out beside my house in the middle of the night? Can't say I'm exactly a fan of that. What's going on?
Well nothing, at least not then. But I began to take more notice. I'd go by the house and wonder, "I don't remember the garage windows covered with foil when the old folks lived there?"
All the while I resisted the temptation to just go to the back end of my yard and peer over or through the fence. Because again, I wish to respect the privacy of all my neighbors with the expectation that they do the same for me.
That ended around eight Friday night.
There was a knock on the front door. I open. Two cops stand there, the badges pinned to their uniforms were shinier than I thought they would be, more golden less brassy. That scene with Eddie Murphy from "Trading Places" pops into my mind, "Is there a problem, officers?"
They were very polite and cordial, but guarded in their conversation and answers the way police officers are. The asked for permission to enter our back yard to get a better view into the neighbor's.
While it is my general rule that with all due respect officer if you wish to enter my property uninvited well then I wish to invoke my rights so show me the warrant, these guys were clearly on a mission that didn't involve me or my household. So what the heck, hold on a sec, meet me around back and I'll unlock the gate.
As I let them in my back yard they asked me general questions inquiring about my knowledge of the new neighbor. As I spoke one of the officers, the one that appeared younger and the more junior officer jotted down notes on a small pad. They walked in and spent a few minutes at the fence line. They asked if they could use the ladder from The Boy's still not set up above ground pool to get a better view. Sure, go right ahead. I stayed back by the gate, not wanting be viewed as meddlesome or interfering. The younger officer continued to jot things down.
After a few minutes they came back to the gate and politely thanked me with an apology for interrupting my evening. When I asked more directly what was going on, one of them used the phrase "an ongoing investigation." Then they got in their cars and drove off.
What the Hell were they looking at? An ongoing investigation? Of what? Overwhelmed with curiosity, The Wife and I went to have a look for ourselves. There were at least a dozen cars parked in the back yard. Why? What is going on in that house?
I recalled a conversation I had with a street-savvy former coworker five years ago when I told him we were looking at buying a house in this neighborhood: "Be careful, that part of town is controlled by the Asian gangs."
It still feels uncomfortable, as though this is politically incorrect and smacks of racial profiling, but my mind began to wildly speculate as to what was happening behind us. Asian gangs? Drugs? Guns? Prostitution?
Well early this evening I learned the alleged truth and it blew my mind just a little. A fellow resident posted this to our neighborhood's Yahoo! news group: "I wanted to make the community aware that a new owner has taken over the property & is now operating an illegal gambling operation. He turned his back yard into a parking lot & gamblers arrive almost daily from as far away as Oklahoma."
Wow.
Last night at this time there were still over a dozen cars parked in the back yard. Tonight there are zero.
Never a dull moment in the big city.
Wow.
|
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