Back a million years ago when Matt was about three and my Brooklyn friends started to dribble out of Brooklyn and head for the suburbs I listened with rapt attention to all of their stories of the weirdness of daily driving and the joy of having your own backyard play set and the excitingness of being able to plant things in the ground instead of in window boxes. My one friend Regula (real name) moved to a more down to earth NJ town about 6 months before we took the leap to stepford. Regula would call me every few days and describe which of her neighbors had come to visit and what they had brought as a welcome to the neighborhood gift. Regula received baked goods, wine, plants and the best was a card file of places to shop or eat with driving directions! (it was the pre-GPS world) The outpouring of neighborly love got me all excited. I was psyched to experience it myself.
Then we moved to stepford where for 2 weeks I held my breath every time I saw someone walking down the street. Not a single neighbor even knocked on my door, let alone came bearing gifts. So at the end of two weeks, I slid 3 month old Evan into the baby carrier and began knocking on their doors. Honestly, it turned out there was no one worth knowing. One neighbor was so embarrassed by her lack of neighborly manners that she did knock back on my door the next day with a plate of chocolate chip cookies in hand. Which was nice until she suspiciously eye balled just turned 4 year old Matt and infant Evan and wondered out loud of they would scale the 6 foot fence to her back yard pool and swim in it. I told her they wouldn't. She wasn't ever going to be my friend. It didn't really matter. She was pretty old and her husband was even older. They didn't have any interest in me either.
It's day 4 here in new town. No knocks yet. The husband from directly cross the street did drive by while we were getting the mail, and he pulled over, so I did get to meet him through his car window, but honestly, I saw his wife having a bad parenting moment in the driveway with their 9 year old son when I was walking bear bait the other day, so I'm feeling a bit gun shy about them. She doesn't seem like my type. I hate to judge so fast, but it really was A BAD PARENTING MOMENT.
Other than my neighbors not flocking to my door to welcome us with open arms, the rest of the town seems nice enough. As a matter of fact most people I've come into contact with seem down right friendly. Time will tell.
P.S. My reaction to the lack of welcome in my stepford neighborhood was to become a one woman greeting machine. For the first ten years I lived there I greeted every single new neighbor with a gift and smile. Most will tell you I was the only one who did. I was hoping for something different here. I guess I'll have to start it again. Maybe I'll make a neighborhood cocktail hour. Cocktails gets people friendly.
I will be curious to hear how the possible cocktail hour turns out. I had similar hopes to make friends with my neighbors when I bought a house in a nice neighborhod last year. I guess I should have been proactive because after waiting this long, going around introducing myself would feel odd.
Posted by: Elena | August 27, 2011 at 06:24 PM