Tag Archives: Da Bronx

In Which I List Thing I Will Miss When We Move

Published / by Kim / 1 Comment on In Which I List Thing I Will Miss When We Move
  • The clop-clop-clop of horses outside my window every day.
  • The Pay Phone Show. (This made the list of things I won’t miss, too. It’s annoying and entertaining all at once.)
  • The view of the woods across the street from my kitchen window. (This is usually what I’m looking at while people stare in at me from the sidewalk.)
  • The short walk that brings me to Eastchester Bay.
  • Having Pelham Bay Park right at my doorstep, literally.
  • Summers when the Metropolitan Opera performs in the park, and I can sit on my stoop and listen to Carmen.
  • The way the sun comes in through the kitchen windows in the morning and hits my prism, sending rainbows all around the room.
  • The crazy variety of birds that show up in the park and in my yard over the course of a year. Ospreys, blackbirds, woodpeckers, orioles, and on and on and on.
  • City Island.
  • Joanne, our neighbor up the block.
  • Tosca, my favorite restaurant for Italian food delivery.
  • The variety of food I can have delivered. Pizza and Chinese are available everywhere, but right now we also have Thai, Indian, two diners and a bar that deliver, more Mexican than you can shake a stick at, two seafood restaurants, several sushi places, Cuban, a place that specializes in only mofongo, and a cafe or two.
  • Easy access to 95 when we want to go north.
  • Bona Vita Key Food with its fantastic deli and crazy impulse buys I can never resist at the register, like jars of pickled peppers or preserved cherries.
  • How all the local delis have mozarella and pasta made in house.
  • The Old Man. Yeah, I’m going to kind of miss the old guy.

Probably not a complete list, but as I was typing someone knocked on the window and made me think of the things I won’t miss again.

In Which I List Things I Will Not Miss When We Move

Published / by Kim / 1 Comment on In Which I List Things I Will Not Miss When We Move
  • Having people who come to the door knock on the windows in the front of the house instead of ringing the bell.
  • Likewise, and even worse, having people yell through the front windows instead of ringing the bell.
  • Late night drunken people yelling outside at 3am on a Tuesday.
  • Hordes of teenagers – also drunk – partying on the corner every night all summer long.
  • Fighting and yelling of obscenities by same said hordes.
  • The Old Man starting his lawnmower right outside our bedroom window at 8am on a Saturday.
  • Leaving same lawnmower running right outside the open bedroom window, forcing us out of bed lest we drift off into that sweet, final sleep known as carbon monoxide poisoning.
  • Field Trip Season in the park, which should be gearing up right around the time we move.
  • The shower that never keeps the same temperature for more than 15 seconds at a time, turning a 5-minute shower into a 20-minute shower with all that additional time needed to constantly adjust the temperature.
  • The Pay Phone Show.
  • The lack of storage.
  • How people stare at me as they walk by while I do dishes in front of the kitchen window that’s, you know, over the sink.
  • How the kitchen table is the launching point for cats to get to the island.
  • Constantly worrying about someone dinging my car, or worse, because it’s parked on the street.
  • Never being in control of the heat in the winter, and subsequently being boiled or frozen depending on someone else’s whim.
  • The yellow bathroom tile. And the blue bathroom fixtures.
  • Having only one bathroom. You may think one bathroom is enough for two people. It is not.
  • Worrying about disturbing someone else if we’re being loud late at night.
  • Creepy Guy wandering around outside the living room window cursing and talking to himself, and yelling, “BOOM!”
  • The Old Man carrying on loud conversations outside our open bedroom window at 7:15 on a Sunday morning.

I’m sure this isn’t a complete list, merely a starting point. Up next: things I will miss when we move.

The Old Man’s Getting Crazier All the Time

Published / by Kim / 2 Comments on The Old Man’s Getting Crazier All the Time

A few months ago, the Old Man flagged Scott down to ask him what we’ve been doing in the middle of the night. Perplexed, Scott asked the Old Man what he meant.

“That noise. That vibrating sound you’re making all night long in the middle of the night,” explained the Old Man.

Scott assured him that all we were doing in the middle of the night was sleeping, and he had no idea what vibrating noise the Old Man meant. He looked at Scott like he was lying, and then looked at him like he was crazy when Scott suggested he should speak to Weird Man and see if he knew what it was. As if the idea of Weird Man making strange noises in the dead of night was preposterous.

Scott was pretty put out by this conversation, as he often is when the Old Man accuses us of things and then thinks we’re lying when we deny it. This happens more often than you might think. A few nights later, though, we heard it: a pretty loud noice coming from outside that could, generously, be described as a vibrating noise. What it actually turned out to be was an FDNY¬†ambulance, idling on the corner all night. They used to sit in the park all night, but they park people started gating the drive every night, so the ambulance couldn’t get in anymore. They sit in their assigned neigborhoods 24 hours a day, so that they’re close when a call comes in. The idle while they wait, because they have diesel engines that need to be kept warm.

So, the next day, Scott goes to the Old Man to tell him we discovered what the vibrating noise was. Surprised, the Old Man asked how we knew, and Scott explained about the ambulance. The Old Man’s reply?

“No, you know what it was? My doorbell was stuck!”

Yeah. His freakin’ doorbell was stuck. For WEEKS. And he accused us of keeping him awake at night doing gods know what to make this noise, and all but accused Scott of lying when he denied it. I’ll give you three guesses as to whether he apologized, and the answer isn’t “yes.”

Come to think of it, this reminds me a little of the time he thought he heard a jackhammer every morning.

“Mailman! Mailman!”

Published / by Kim / 3 Comments on “Mailman! Mailman!”

Our next door neighbors have a poorly behaved, somewhat poorly cared for golden lab named Sandy. She’s not horribly cared for; not beaten or starved, but they do neglect her an awful lot.

She’s pretty aggressive when she’s in her yard, and will bark at anyone who comes near her fence. The owners often forget to latch the fence, though, and she wanders a few times a month. Never far, but she does cross the street sometimes and I’ve seen her nearly hit by one of the maniac drivers around here on more than one occasion. When I see her wandering, I go outside and walk up to her and say, “Sandy! Get home!” And she does, immediately and with her tail between her legs, because outside of her yard, she’s terrified of everyone.

The mailman, however, doesn’t know that. He only knows that she barks when he comes near. This makes his job difficult, because the neighbors’ mailbox is inside the fence. With Sandy. So in order to deliver their mail, the mailman has to stand outside the gate and yell, “Mailman! Mailman!” and hope someone will come take it. If they don’t, he has to do this weird contortionist thing from our side yard, reaching over the fence, to try and reach the mailbox on their house without going into the yard.

You would think that the neighbors would move the mailbox out closer to the gate, to avoid having the poor mailman having to do his job this way. But they don’t. I don’t know if they never thought of it or they just don’t care, but I find that so incredibly rude.