“One Musing & One Quick Story”

TENNIS COURT

My next door neighbor has a tennis court in his backyard that is visible from my bathroom window. In summer, I sometimes look out the window and imagine a fierce tennis match taking place between two polished opponents. I welcome this bit of excitement happening in real time that I can watch, unabashed, for a solid five minutes before I have to lie back down again. But it never happens.

My wife and I have lived in this house for over five years and the only amount of activity on that tennis court has been your everyday squirrel chasing a nut and the weekly landscaper leaf-blowing the shit out of the concrete surface.

Before we bought this house, I casually asked the realtor to ask the seller if the neighbors ever use their tennis court. His reply: “No, they do not, nor will they ever.”

BURGLARY

When I was around ten years old, my family home got burglarized. My mother and sister were out somewhere, but my father, my brother, and I came home from Sears in time to hear that someone was in the house, more specifically, downstairs in the basement. We had just pulled in the driveway when my father noticed all the lights on inside the house. A licensed carrier, he immediately went for the pistol in his ankle holster. He told my brother and I to stay put inside the car. Then he cautiously entered the house.

Of course we didn’t listen to my father’s instructions and followed along soon after. The kitchen was trashed. And there was commotion heard from down in the basement. When I went downstairs—I’m not sure what my brother was doing at this point, perhaps whimpering in the corner somewhere—my father and the burglar were nowhere in sight.

Our was stuff strewn everywhere. I immediately rushed to the other part of the basement, where the bulked was, and saw that it was open, the backyard censor light illuminating the area outside. And so I was able to catch a glimpse of my father running through the snow away from the house. The rest of the story goes that he chased the burglar a ways up the street before eventually losing sight of him. However, if you ask my father in the present day if this ever happened, he’ll say that it never did, and that you don’t know what you’re talking about.

Did my father really chase a burglar almost a quarter mile up the road with a firearm in his hand? I remember that night and I remember it well. Perhaps Dateline might properly investigate the events of that evening so I can know the real facts of this mysterious cold case.

Comments

Well I loved that. I seem to find anecdotes about real life to be: well enjoyable. My memoirs, should I write them, would be endless anecdotes.

- In a massive synchronicity, I was just discussing Tennis, with another PR member.

(Specifically, Position # 1 in Tennis- is what I'm trying to do in my kitchen..so I can spring into action, ha ha)

-how disappointing, that you in fact MAYBE could be watching an occasional back and forth, only your not.

- those neighbors have more money than they need (dont care house came with a tennis court)

***
THE BURGLARY..yes our real lives are quite something.

I had a parallel, similar yet different experience at thirteen, our Burglary. I wrote it up as a story. Can I add it here? (If I can find it, which is iffy- finding is now a major problem)

In my case, it was my mother, a broomstick and one worthless beagle- chasing the burglar down the hallway at 3 am. The men slept on....

In my case, the burglars's foot prints were traced outside, in the dark frosty ground.

Being burgled, caused significant paranoia, within my family unit. That went on for years thereafter....

And then-

1) my best friend married this local guy, who informed me, about twenty years later, of who exactly it was, broke into our house and stole my Dad's cash paycheck from his pants pocket. His best friend....a teenage delinquent

2) more decades later, the burglar himself, is living next door to me, married to my next door neighbor....we would chat and visit occasionally. I never asked him to give us back the $122, 16 cents.

3) I have the news paper clipping ! In my saved papers!
***
In related news, the Gun part of your burglary....we had no such items, living in suburbia.

But I thought I'd share that my Grandfather was a policeman. And he famously possessed a gun, which my mother told me, was forbidden for any of the eleven children, to touch this gun.

However, I got very brave one day, and called my mother's brother.. an Uncle who is 87. An Uncle whom I met, once, when I was seven. And all I remember is he delivered water melons in this big truck. We got a water melon.

So decades later, I interviewed my Uncle about this gun, and it turns out HE was allowed to touch it, the oldest son, he was the only one. I really enjoyed talking to him, but that was a few years ago and I'm afraid to call again. He would be over 90 and ..is he even still there?
 
Just now I did in fact locate a version of my Burglary story.

Its longish. I'm not even currently capable of writing things, as evidenced by the fact that I'm impressed I wrote all that...,it does not feel possible currently.

Its shocking really- best to NOT Evaluate this decline.
 
Rufous, you’re funny. Love your anecdotes as well. Yes, please post your burglary story if you can. I’ll happily read it.
Your so kind!

I really liked how you can tell a good story without bogging down in too many details. (thats just me, as details really get me these days)

I was pretty serious about- plans to write things...major things. Historical novels. non fictional science articles for journals...humor columns... and then this cognitive crap hit me big time.

I even entered some contest, and was sure I'd win. I didn't even get Honorably Mentioned. I decided the contest was in fact lame. Don't let that deter you. What the heck is Snap Chat anyway, and why would anyone care about that? (I was writing about overpopulated hamsters, originating from Syria)...that topic should beat out Snap Chat, right?

Accepting that these declines can set in is hard. And the world changes- does it still compute?
 
Overpopulated hamsters? I mean, how could any one not be interested in that topic?! I’m sorry about the cognitive stuff. It’s a full-time drag, for sure, to deal with these symptoms and then on top of it have the cognitive capacity of a very elderly person. Still waiting on your burglary story to come out …
 
Overpopulated hamsters?
my writing issues are also tied into losing a bunch of it in the wildfire that ate the house and stuff.

My hard copy burnt up and the file is locked in a drive which won't open along with four other stories New Yorker- Worthy. So much for evacuating the back up drive- it won't open. I still pray this will change. You'd think after four years I'd have figure it out by now....:bang-head::bang-head::bang-head:

The hamster story was headed to the New Yorker for sure. I even obtained a German manuscript from the 1700s' : they agree with me: HAMSTERS are a miniature version of the Human Condition. I have REFERENCES!

The first title was: Mandibles in the Sawdust.

The losing title I submitted to teh contest I didn't win, was; They Roam the Hills Outside Allepo.

And nobody who reads that paper knows what the heck is Allepo. (or mandibles)..and the winning First place, involved something about Snap Chat.

Huh? Whats that?

It seems we will have generational issues and need to target an audience.
 
Overpopulated hamsters
never own more than one hamster...(or Rattus rattus)

***
It seems I also owned one Rat for about a year. Obtained on a vacation, the sign at the gas station said: Free Rat. White with some black patterns, Ratter headed home 300 miles in the 1957 Chevy.

Ratter was moved in with one small South American parrot, and the guinea pig. They all slept together.

And things might have worked out if Ratter had not decided to eat my roommates shoes, leaving lovely scallops cross the leather tongue.

"Ratter must go".. (or I have to break my lease....)

We begged, simply begged the pet store to take Ratter. It took three trips but they finally agreed.

And then what happened? Well, we discover Ratter at the Pet Store, is on display in a special cage with her new boyfriend.

"Not For Sale" says the sign. Ratter was set up with a lifetime gig and a permanent boyfriend! "Breeding Pair" said the sign.....
 
those neighbors have more money than they need (dont care house came with a tennis court)
I wonder if it's possible that they bought the house excited and intending to use the court and then someone got ill...maybe even with ME. :(

Did you ever find out why, @Cloudyskies?

Also are you sure you would enjoy the sounds of a ball thumping again and again like that?

Even on one of my better days, that sound would drive me buggy. :snigger: <<<(He's got no arms otherwise he would be covering his ears.)

So maybe you got blessed with the neighbors that never play tennis.

I'm very curious though about your father denying the story of chasing the robber. Any idea why he would do that?
 
I wonder if it's possible that they bought the house excited and intending to use the court and then someone got ill...maybe even with ME. :(

Did you ever find out why, @Cloudyskies?

Also are you sure you would enjoy the sounds of a ball thumping again and again like that?

Even on one of my better days, that sound would drive me buggy. :snigger: <<<(He's got no arms otherwise he would be covering his ears.)

So maybe you got blessed with the neighbors that never play tennis.

I'm very curious though about your father denying the story of chasing the robber. Any idea why he would do that?
I did learn of the tennis court situation. The previous owners had it put in and used it often. The current owners are an elderly couple with an adult daughter living there who has mental health issues. So they don’t use it.

No, of course, I’m thankful to not have to hear a bouncing ball going back and forth, back and forth. But I just thought it might be exciting to witness a few minutes of a match or two. I want the best of both worlds, ya know.

The house we lived in prior to this, a rental home, had the neighbor’s teenage kid playing basketball across from us at all hours of the day and early evening. I lost my mind a few times in that house due to the noise, which I could hear from my bedroom, as it was my first year of severe ME.

Regarding my father, who knows? He is the same man who said he’s never smoked a cigarette in his life. And yet, in one of his high school prom pictures, he can be seen holding a cigarette in his right hand by his side.
 
And when will they do something about the music when your on Hold?
I honestly think that music on hold is to make us hang up sooner especially when they get those high-pitched, fast whirly kind of sounds in the music...they hurt the ears and that fast tempo gets my heart to pounding in my chest.
 
The house we lived in prior to this, a rental home, had the neighbor’s teenage kid playing basketball across from us at all hours of the day and early evening. I lost my mind a few times in that house due to the noise, which I could hear from my bedroom, as it was my first year of severe ME.
That would drive me batty, too. I'm happy for you that you moved from there.

When healthy, I loved playing basketball and also going to the university games, but now, even in a movie, I can't deal with the sound of the ball bouncing and the shoes squeaking on the floor. Aww, the good old days of being normal.
 

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