the party house
Stately lumberyard manor is in a fairly nice community, with a golf course, a pool, a small but adequate gym and somewhere in the neighborhood of 750 homes. They come in several price ranges/sizes, and if you cut that distinction in half, stately lumberyard manor would find itself squarely in the bottom half. We're not in the smallest house in the neighborhood, but we're small compared to some of the more palatial abodes. It's all very tasteful, except for the stripper poles. (Not really, but I love the line from somewhere left of Parkwood, and it fits.)
Across the street from us (and down a house or two) once was the party house. The couple that lived there had two sons. One a college graduate and one in college. They also had a pool. Most Friday nights found us and many other folks in the neighborhood sittings around their pool, in conversation and in toxication. Sometimes that phenomenon found itself stretching to other nights of the week.
Then the party house folks moved on up, to the east side, to a deeeeeluxe apartment in the sky...or at least to the other side of the neighborhood. They sold their house during the housing bubble market and bought a bigger one in the same neighborhood. We still see them. In fact, Mr. Party House was my sometimes cycling partner, who I have since left in the dust. We just don't see them as often as we did when they were across the street.
Last night I went to their house to retrieve a salad bowl we left there from a party a few months ago. I was going to be gone...oh...15 minutes. 20 max.
That house has a way of sucking you in. The gravitational pull is something to behold.
I was greeted by Mr. Party House. We found the salad bowl, and I thought I was getting out, but..."Do you have time for a beer? It's #2 son's birthday."
Well, it was 9:30 and it was #2 son's birthday...and #2 son is a friend as well, so suuuuure, I have time for a beer. And so, one became two, and two became three and now it's 11:00...lumberyard bedtime and I still have to take the dog out and do a few other household chores and I escaped (with the salad bowl), leaving Mr. Party House still up and drinking Jim Beam with both of his sons, #2 son's girlfriend, the bartender from the golf clubhouse and Mrs. Party House...and he's holding down two jobs because he's getting out of the Navy soon and has already secured a civilian job, and is now doing both until his military retirement. He was up this morning well before my 6:00 wake-up call. How he makes it through the day after semi-routinely doing nights like that I don't know. I realize it's an admission that I'm a wimpy, cheap date (or just getting older), but 3 beers and up past 11:00 on a weeknight...is something I pay for in the morning. I make sure I don't pay often.
In all that though, I got neighborhood "delinquent kid" scoop. Apparently yesterday was the first day the public school kids were out for the summer, and our neighborhood celebrated the occasion with not one, but two calls to the local police. First we had two kids, age around fifteen, who showed up at the pool, drunk. Not just tipsy drunk, but pukin' dog drunk. One got sick in the men's room. The other got outside the pool grounds and threw up on the hedges. Nobody at the party house knew who they were for sure, but the rumor was they live in a house being rented down the street from....me. I've seen those kids. They ride skateboards a lot, but the youngster has never hung out with them, so I don't really know them. Still, I'm not about to condemn them on the basis of rumor. One of them, though, while their parents were out of town, took the family car for a drive and totalled it. I didn't know that until last night either. Then there were kids hiding in the bushes next to one of the greens on the golf course, sneaking on the green when shots were hit and stealing the golf balls. The cops found them, chased them back toward their homes as they were spilling the evidence down the street. I hope this isn't a harbinger of things to come.
Across the street from us (and down a house or two) once was the party house. The couple that lived there had two sons. One a college graduate and one in college. They also had a pool. Most Friday nights found us and many other folks in the neighborhood sittings around their pool, in conversation and in toxication. Sometimes that phenomenon found itself stretching to other nights of the week.
Then the party house folks moved on up, to the east side, to a deeeeeluxe apartment in the sky...or at least to the other side of the neighborhood. They sold their house during the housing bubble market and bought a bigger one in the same neighborhood. We still see them. In fact, Mr. Party House was my sometimes cycling partner, who I have since left in the dust. We just don't see them as often as we did when they were across the street.
Last night I went to their house to retrieve a salad bowl we left there from a party a few months ago. I was going to be gone...oh...15 minutes. 20 max.
That house has a way of sucking you in. The gravitational pull is something to behold.
I was greeted by Mr. Party House. We found the salad bowl, and I thought I was getting out, but..."Do you have time for a beer? It's #2 son's birthday."
Well, it was 9:30 and it was #2 son's birthday...and #2 son is a friend as well, so suuuuure, I have time for a beer. And so, one became two, and two became three and now it's 11:00...lumberyard bedtime and I still have to take the dog out and do a few other household chores and I escaped (with the salad bowl), leaving Mr. Party House still up and drinking Jim Beam with both of his sons, #2 son's girlfriend, the bartender from the golf clubhouse and Mrs. Party House...and he's holding down two jobs because he's getting out of the Navy soon and has already secured a civilian job, and is now doing both until his military retirement. He was up this morning well before my 6:00 wake-up call. How he makes it through the day after semi-routinely doing nights like that I don't know. I realize it's an admission that I'm a wimpy, cheap date (or just getting older), but 3 beers and up past 11:00 on a weeknight...is something I pay for in the morning. I make sure I don't pay often.
In all that though, I got neighborhood "delinquent kid" scoop. Apparently yesterday was the first day the public school kids were out for the summer, and our neighborhood celebrated the occasion with not one, but two calls to the local police. First we had two kids, age around fifteen, who showed up at the pool, drunk. Not just tipsy drunk, but pukin' dog drunk. One got sick in the men's room. The other got outside the pool grounds and threw up on the hedges. Nobody at the party house knew who they were for sure, but the rumor was they live in a house being rented down the street from....me. I've seen those kids. They ride skateboards a lot, but the youngster has never hung out with them, so I don't really know them. Still, I'm not about to condemn them on the basis of rumor. One of them, though, while their parents were out of town, took the family car for a drive and totalled it. I didn't know that until last night either. Then there were kids hiding in the bushes next to one of the greens on the golf course, sneaking on the green when shots were hit and stealing the golf balls. The cops found them, chased them back toward their homes as they were spilling the evidence down the street. I hope this isn't a harbinger of things to come.
Labels: It's all about me
John put this out here at 7:08 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home