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| Not an actual shot of the incident, but close enough to give you a good idea of the scenario |
They are two young guys and they each have a muscle car. The exact same model There must have been a two for one sale. Not sure if they do the whole BOGO thing for Dodge Chargers, but in this economy, it's anyone's guess. Regardless of how they came to posses these super charged beasts of the industrial age, I don't think they thought through how they would perform in the winter months. 8 cylinders of power is great for cruising down the main drag in the dog days of summer and leaning to one side as you tip your head to look over your Ray-Bans at a cute girl with exactly 20 followers on Instagram, but when the snow flies, the only thing you'll be looking over is a snowbank if you don't have the proper tires on your schmooze-mobile.
These guys have no snow tires. They also do not shovel their driveway.
All the torque in the world won't get you to move an inch when you're sitting on what is essentially the mini-glacier we call Ontario in December.
Here's what happened early one morning after a brief snowfall.
I am in bed early because of my job. I awake at four a.m. to go into work at 5. Weekends for me are the only time I get to sleep in. Saturday and Sunday are sacred days of sabbath rest where the alarm on my phone lets me stay horizontal for as long as I care to be without a hint of responsibility, other thank making coffee and bacon at whatever hour I choose to lift myself from the mattress. It's glorious! That's why I was so perturbed to be woken at 3 a.m. on a Sunday by the constant revving of a 6.4 liter V8 engine. At first, I thought it was a snow plow, but the roar of the motor did not fade into the distance of a snowy night, it remained constant, dying down for only a few moments before returning with a fiery vengeance.
I was determined to call the police on whoever was the offending rev-er and get them in "trouble". This was outrageous! But I had to know for sure what was causing this ruckus. I got out of bed and crept downstairs, picking up my flashlight from the bowl beside the door, and opened up to peek around the porch. (It was cold and I was minimally dressed, so this would be a quick peek.)
It was as I suspected, the neighbor person was revving his big block in the next door driveway, but the car was moving back and forth only a few feet at a a time. He was very clearly, stuck in his own driveway.
It was decision time. Do I continue with my plan to call the cops and then try and return to my slumber, or do I get dressed and go help him?
These are the times when you realize you should probably do the thing you don't want to do. Upstairs I went to get my pants and shirt on and go lend a hand. Why not be neighborly? I am awake anyway.
As I stepped out of the house, I grabbed my trusty snow shovel from the porch and walked over to Mr. Stucky McStuckerson. I say I would like to lend a hand as as we spoke just a few words, out of the corner of my eye, I see the neighbor from across the street exit his house and come to the edge of the curb. This looked promising! The whole street, coming together to aid a poor soul in need of help! What hope swelled within my bosom for the future of mankind! We would lead the way together to a new era of kindness and compassion! One driveway at a time!
Before I could explain what was happening, neighbor #2 began to speak. Did he ask how he could pitch in and resolve this slippery situation? No! He began to unleash a torrent of anger and rage in my direction! He expounded, in very succinct terms, that the hour was late and the noise was too dreadful! He spoke for not only his household, but the surrounding domiciles also! How could you make such a din! It violates basic human decency!
When there was a break in the tirade, I interjected that if we could, together, help this individual, we could resolve the situation and all get back to a warm winters nap.
He would have none of it. With a few more words, he stormed back into the house.
I realized at that moment, that he came out of his house seeing only me and my shovel! For all he knew, I was the sole architect of the evenings sinister symphony! The fellow in the offending vehicle never moved and never bothered to speak up and defend me or explain his actions! He just sat there! I took all HIS grief from the sleepy street umpire who had called foul on the noise!
I became very direct and asked him which way he was trying to go, in or out.
He said "In".
So, like Samson of old, the spirit of strength came upon me and, unaided, I pushed that noisy beast into place and bid him a good evening.
The whole affair reminded me of the gospel story.
We are like the car, spinning its wheels, all flash and no grip. Loads of potential but no traction. Out from a perfect environment comes Jesus. He arrives to help, to get us unstuck from our issues. As humans do, we focus our anger, like my neighbor, on the one who seems to be causing the trouble. Without asking questions, we blame the One who is here to save us and unload on Him! Silently He absorbs our blame and with supernatural power brings a resolution!
Who knew you could learn so much from a noisy neighbor?
