I am—and I’ve learned to embrace this—a get-off-my-lawn type. More than that, I’m a get-off-my-street type. There is simply no basic sense of community or common courtesy any more that I can find. The kids down the street from us have loud motorbikes of the kind that are made for dirt. But do they go where there is dirt? (And our town has plenty of places that fit the bill.) No, they’d rather ride them loudly up and down our street and annoy everyone. And their parents don’t stop them, I assume because the parents would rather that the kids be the community’s problem than theirs.
Whatever. I’m clearly not a people person and not fit for society. There are days when I wish whatever cosmic power exists (and I do think there must be something, though whether it cares or is paying attention . . . but that’s another conversation) would just wipe us out and get it over with, give the world back to the plants and animals, because we suck. People suck, yes, even me. Though I at least have enough sense not to irritate my neighbors by riding loud bikes in front of their houses, or blasting music that can be heard two blocks away, or popping off firecrackers when the fields are really dry and could go up like tinder.
Bottom line: I should live out somewhere far from the rest of the general population.