We were told today by one of our kids off at school that maybe the “old people’s noise ordinance” here wasn’t so bad an idea after all.
Yeah… There used to be a musician in our immediate neighborhood who did some of his growing up in this town and stayed (when he wasn’t on the road).
I used to see this guy out taking a walk sometimes, which I noticed because I did too, (y’know, wave slightly at the neighbor or nod a simple hi in passing if you’re on the same side of the street) and man did he look familiar. But I didn’t have a clue who he was.
There used to be another neighbor of ours down our street whom we knew pretty well, the retired chief of police, who complained to Richard about this hippy neighbor of his just across the fence from him playing his music loud with his buddies but always staying *just* inside the noise ordinance; Ski was used to calling the shots, given the position he’d had, but he couldn’t touch the guy and he knew it. Bugged the heck out of him.
His neighbor went on to design psychedelic ties.
And he went on to have a Ben and Jerry’s flavor named after him.
Which happens to be Richard’s favorite.
(I can just picture him and Ski, the Ungrateful Dude–all those free concerts he was treated to!–now that they’re both up there, with Ski going, So, Jerry… Teach me how to jam on that guitar of yours?)