an ode to my former neighbor

i used to have a neighbor who lived above me who would watch tv at full blast. i was told that he was a little hard of hearing but it never really bothered me all that much. i even got a kick out of it when i'd be watching a football game and i could hear him watching the same exact football game as me. the bass would pound from above and filter into my apartment perfectly queued with what i was watching at that moment.

sometimes he'd play a keyboard. it wasn't very often and when it first started, i was a little surprised. i had been in my apartment for a few years before i started to hear the sounds of a keyboard. maybe he picked up a new hobby? up until that point, i assumed he was just a dude who couldn't hear too well and watched a ton of tv. he wasn't very good at the keyboard and i think he knew it cuz he'd usually give up pretty quickly.

i never met this guy... ever. he lived above me for about 5-6 years and i never once had a conversation with him. i don't even know his name. other people told me what it was, but i never remembered it. it never seemed weird to me. i was always okay with the arrangement. i'm weird with my neighbors. i don't like to stop and chat. you never know where the conversations are gonna go. i gotta live in the same building with these people. one bad convo could turn me into enemies with someone. i don't need that. i'd much rather a mellow existence with not much turmoil when it comes to my living quarters.

and then he moved. he was gone and so was the blaring tv. and then there was silence. but i never minded the noise. in fact, because of this guy watching tv at such a high volume, i thought i had a strong tolerance for loud noises coming from outside of my apartment. i was about to learn how untrue that was.

a family with two children moved in above me and just like that, the silence disappeared and was replaced  immediately with all sorts of noises that weren't the blaring tv of my former neighbor. there's yelling and crying and loud toys and stomping.... so much stomping. the father...i can hear him snore some nights. his bedroom is right above mine and sometimes i'll be laying down, trying to sleep and then i'll hear it... his snores creeping through the ceiling. i'll usually turn on the radio to try and tune him out. anytime it happens, i begin to miss the blaring tv of yesteryear.

the parents fight a lot. and when they do, i can hear them scream at each other. they fight in spanish and i'm sorta grateful for that cuz at least i don't know what they're fighting about. some details are not worth knowing.

they also had a baby recently. so now there's a three kid family living in a one bedroom apartment above me. i can't imagine what their sleeping arrangements must be like, but it can't be that bad cuz they never leave. they keep staying and keep crying and keep yelling and keep stomping.... so much stomping.

so old nameless neighbor, this is an ode to you. sometimes you truly don't know what you got till it's gone. i like to think that you're somewhere out there in the world living above a different bachelor who gets a kick out of the pounding bass of your tv creeping through his ceiling confirming that the two of you are watching espn sportscenter at the same time.