Here we have a Cube in the wild.
No Cubes were harmed in the making of this post.
Getting to know my neighbors is a habit from childhood. It seems to have fallen out of fashion with the younger generations. While it's important to know your community, you never know when a neighbor will need assistance. As a teenager, a former neighbor once suffered a stroke and yelled for help for two days. We played outside in those days. Kids on bikes or with jump ropes. Anytime when the sun came out. Our neighbor survived due to the keen ear of my sister.
Perhaps the idyllic neighborly "Howdy Ho Neighbor" can also be considered nosy. I get that. It is a comforting thought though, to know helping hands are close by. Lend or borrow an egg. Help get groceries for a flu stricken family. Watchful eyes aware when we are out of town. Community is a rare find, but the memory of block parties and a billion neighbor kids in your backyard seems to fade away with the years when bustling, hustling, and isolation appear to be more of the norm. Pandemics don't help either.
I like to sit outside and work online. Load up on vitamin D and pet the doggos of passersby. I used to sit on my back patio but a Y2K like freezer now resides in my porch haven and it appears my herb garden is rivaling a McCormick warehouse operation.
On a side note, even if you are a brown-thumbed individual, I recommend buying an herb plant for $2 to $3. This is fool-proof. Keep it alive, your brown thumb is officially green now and you have fresh herbs. Go you! However, if you kill it, you now have dried herbs and you still paid a fraction of what the supermarket offers. I don't see a downside to this.
I've gotten to know some neighbors by hanging out on my two story patio. Etta (not really her name) lived across the courtyard from us and would BBQ on her patio 3 to 4 times a week. The smell was heavenly and we talked about our kids. Her ex. My grades, when I was at a local college. Her very cool job tallying and reporting box office movie ticket sales. How living with lupus had its ups and downs. Most importantly, when I was coming over for dinner.
Did I mention the BBQ smell?
Etta moved away and I met Vlad, the new tenant in her old place. Again, that is not his name, but he is from Very Cold Place, Russia. I only learned about him and his family after an icy snowfall where he appeared on his patio in a t-shirt and shorts asking about the pool.
I lied. He had on PJ pants.
He did tell me he was surprised at the snowfall and it reminded him of home. Then came the incident where he hit my parked car late one night and told me the next morning, not realizing he hit my van. He may or may not have been...imbibing. Judging from our neighborly patio convos, my conclusion appears to be the most likely. I had no proof. We were neighbors. He had insurance.
Once my patio was overtaken by my homesteading jungle, I found a new perch, a little green utility box. It appeared to be a safe perch. I christened this my Green Cube. I should probably name it something cooler. I'm up for suggestions.
Situated near the sidewalk and down a bit on a hill to give a nice low view of the side street. It is also covered by trees and graffiti, so I found it appropriate to set my arse directly on the graffiti-ed side. Take that, gangsters. Middle aged lady sitting on your tag. The same one you read about in Argentina prisons. The tags, not middle aged ladies.
My Cube also hums. I'm sure its fine.
Of note: I will not share this tag. What the heck. Now that I have camped out here for a few months, I'm going to be calling the utility company and request a new paint job.
I'm enjoying my time on my cube and have met some great people.
Rob and his wife, Lily. They've been married for 45 years. He fought in Korea. He has great stories and a fist-sized hiatal hernia. I have to make a concerted effort to not stare at the center of his stomach. Why don't people get these things taken care of. Doesn't that hurt?
Mr DJ walks his black fluffy doggo, Shadow. Shadow was attacked by a pittie when he was a young pup. As a result, Shadow doesn't like other doggos but loves people. Shadow is a King Cocker Spaniel and Chihuahua mix. Mr DJ has disc jockeyed for many different radio stations. He likes country. His wife is a retired nurse.
Karaoke Man is known around town. He lives nearby and bikes everywhere. He turns up the juice on the amp and sings to soft hits and Motown from the 70s. Everyone knows a city's celebrity busker.
Paul lives nearby. He drives a green Kia and his wife is a pack rat. He does have a WWI Russian helmet for the low price of $600. Paul reenacts Civil War battlefields. Full dress. He plays a Confederate but he said he's not racist. It was only because they needed more Confederates and the uniforms were a lot cheaper. He also has three ex wives but now he goes to church and is happily married. He is pretty funny and his dog is very sweet. Paul will be moving by the end of the month. He is happy his new townhouse has all new appliances.
TDG, Tall Distinguished Gentleman, walks every evening. He struts on by in a walk-jog and says ritual hellos with a trademark smile, and "have a great evening" in passing. I love his accent. It sounds almost Afrikaans or Dutch to me. As it turns out, what do I know. He is from Zimbabwe.
He waves from across the street, "Wenza kanjani!" (Zulu for "How are you")
The Lady with the Red hat. Immaculate nails, makeup, and red lipstick. Coiffed, platinum hair, and smile. She never walks with anyone else but has a great hat.
Teenage Hoodie. Shuffles by with his wiener dog. I've never seen his neck or his eyes. His face is perpetually in the phone.
Janet wears nothing but athletic wear. Cool shoes. She also has a friendly hello. Her Siberian Husky, "Avalanche" has places to go, things to do. Byeeeee....
Lastly, there is Rob. Rob is outgoing, but gives me 'watch him close" vibes. Just something, but he's funny. He's never been forward usually stops at my green cube to show me the crowned jewels of dumpster diving expeditions. He has mad skills. Rob reminds me of a surfer dude, Keanu Reeves, or the Turtle Dad in Finding Nemo. A few snippets should tell you a lot about Rob.
"I live down the road..a have a totally nice house. My parents own a ton so they let me live in this one."
"I'm so off the grid. I hate cell phones. Haven't owned one in years."
"I only go to the clean dumpsters. No needles in this area. I quit that shit 20 years ago."
I asked what did he do for work and the drawl is out like January molasses, "I am a maaaan of leisure. My biggest decision is which of four bathroom I'm going to use in the morning." He nods, as if in agreement with himself.
Rob carefully opens the plastic bag to show me his newly acquired goods, "If its clothes in a garbage bag, its always clean."
Modeling a white table runner with blue stripes on the ends, "Look, I'm Jewish! I'm not really Jewish, but if I was I'd look bitchin."
Pulls out one curtain panel, "ooh, a rug!" Rob proceeded to lay this out on the side walk, kneel, and face plant. "Like this?"
I stifled a laugh.
"So Rob, did you grow up around here?"
"I graduated in Portland. '92. I've done okay with myself."
Switching gears, he makes this jerking movement, he is gloriously excited. "OOOH, I have a uniform now." He gently holds up full Subway uniform punctuated with a Cheshire smile. On the T-shirt, over his head and clothes. The hat is yanked on and suddenly, a fashion show was born. He's animated now. He grabs the jean jacket out of bag, "Duude. And a coat! I look rad, don't I?"
Strutting ensues further. He is exhibiting something between drunken chicken and a Monty Python sketch.
"Oh, and these aren't used, but..." Mr Point Break looks dead serious and holds up a clear, industrial plastic bag of unused Depends, "You know of anyone who has a diaper fetish?"
"Nooo?" I say slowly with a grimaced smile, holding in a flash of second-hand embarrassment. "Can't say that I do."
His face relays all the seriousness of the meaning of life, "Well, these are going back." He bolts across the street to return the unwanted item back to the oversized, apartment dumpster.
People aren't always vulnerable, until they are.
At times, not what they appear, until they tell you.
Not loud about needing help, until they're overwhelmed.
Sometimes they just need kindness, but there are also moments of mind your own business.
You couldn't know moments you've thrown a lifeline, where you've positively impacted another human (or doggo).
Sometimes I used to see Rob and wave to him driving his beater Expedition haphazardly overfilled with cardboard, garbage sacks, and other questionable detritus. I haven't seen him in some time which may have something to do with him showing up in the paper with a mug shot for suspected nefarious deeds.
Should I have not been kind, or neighborly? I may have acted differently had I know better and done better (this is also why you should listen to your gut, ladies and gents).
Neighbors are an oddity. My connection to them may only be that I live closely. The rest is up to me to foster good relations, or mindful of not fostering anything at all. Being a good neighbor on my Green Cube but still minding my own business.
~Bee does her best work outside.
Listening to The Search by NF
░B░e░e░ ░R░e░p░a░r░t░e░e░