A Work in Progress

Barking dogs, car stereos and "I know NOTHING!"
Every time I think I have seen the most ignorant thing there is, something comes along to top it. This entry of "are we having fun yet?" is about some of the most ignorant things I've ever encountered. I refuse to say "THE" most ignorant, as I'm sure these will be topped, eventually.

If you live in Chandler, Arizona, like I do, there is a city noise ordinance. Actually, there are two: 1) Any noise loud enough and long enough in duration to cause distress to the average person, and 2) A barking dog, by day or night.

What you don't find out until you actually have trouble with noise, is how it is (isn't) enforced. Enter the boom boxes (loud car stereos)... that run up and down the medium-traffic street behind my house. These nitwitted waterhead miracles can find nothing better to do than drive UP AND DOWN this street - ad nauseum, vibrating everyone out of bed. It's not even as good as those vibrators in motel beds where you put a quarter in.

The first day I noticed them was the beginning of August (I've lived here nearly five years - this is a brand new game they're playing), in mid-afternoon. The house started vibrating. I had no idea what was causing it, as I heard no sound except a very low-pitched "hum." I tried to ignore it and went to take a shower. Noticed that I felt it even in there, water running and all. When an hour went by with the house still shaking, I called the police and asked if road work was perhaps being done on that street. They said it might be, but they didn't have access to street repair schedules. After another hour, it stopped, and I forgot about it.

Until that night, when it started again. It wasn't until then that I actually heard what they call "music." Between the "booms" were a few discordant tones. *sigh*

So - story goes on. A few mornings later, after yet another more or less sleepless night, at about 6:30 a.m., the boomers finally stopped, and a neighbour's dog started barking. Completely disgusted now, I called the police again and told them of both the waterhead miracles who are driving up and down the street, and the waterhead miracle who thinks it's ok to let their dog bark his head off. I felt like a sandwich - where one piece of "bread" ended, another started - with me stuck in the middle.

The police told me, that unless I was willing to file a formal complaint, nothing would be done, because it isn't a public safety issue. I told him he didn't understand - when I don't get enough sleep for three nights in a row, it IS a public safety issue (could tell he tried not to laugh). I asked what a "formal complaint" entailed, and he said the offenders would be told my name and address. (!!!) My complaint would become "public record." I said "No, thanks - stupid way to do it." He then said if I want to remain anonymous, they'd send an officer over there - and if HE heard the dog, he'd leave a "hanger" on their doorknob, telling them their dog was barking, which is against the law. I said "ok." 45 minutes later, with the dog still barking non-stop, I called back. They said the officer didn't hear anything.

Several sleepless nights and mornings later, I called again. Again, they sent an officer over there, and 45 minutes later told me he couldn't hear anything. By now I was rather snippy (well, ok - even moreso than usual) and somewhat delirious from lack of sleep, so I replied "He couldn't hear that?? Are the donuts too crunchy, or what??" To which the dispatcher replied "I don't have to listen to that." And to which I replied "And I don't have to listen to that dog every morning." And here's the clincher. She has the gall to say...

"What are you saying?," she asked.
"I'm saying that I understand why people 'do it themselves' - the police can't HEAR!"
"You're being taped, you know."
"Listen - I am not the problem here, but I'm going to become one if I don't get some sleep! It's good you're taping me! Then when the dog ends up dead and I get asked about it, I'll have the chief listen to this tape. It'll prove that I TRIED going to legal route first, but all the police are deaf!"

(grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!)

I don't really feel like writing a book about this, so I'll speed things up. If you can imagine calling police every night because you are unrelentingly shaken from sleep by car stereos, and every morning because, like an alarm clock, a dog starts barking at 5:45 (it kept getting earlier, for some reason), then you can guess what state of mind I got into after three weeks. I finally did end up calling the chief's office and, to my surprise, got to talk to him right away. Told him everything - how I was going to get sleep, one way or another - how I was already talking to my realtor, about how the police can't seem to hear (because they drive right by), about how stupidly the law is "enforced." He asked if I would talk to an officer if he sent one over. I said yes - I was ready to lodge a formal complaint.

The officer was nice, anyway. He went to the barking dog's house. Came back - said "Indeed, there is a dog barking there non-stop." Left a note, the woman who owns the dog called him, asked if she could talk with me. I said yes, and we talked the same day.

She told me, the reason she got the dog is because a group of five "gang-bangers" moved in next door to her, and they were stealing things out of her yard. "Gang-bangers?" I asked. "Yes - they are all in their early 20's and they work on their cars with their loud stereos on." Bingo! Same guys that apparently can think of nothing to do but burn gas UP AND DOWN the street at all hours. Five waterhead miracles - all in the same house!

I've taken a ride down that street a few times, and once or twice I saw people and asked if they've heard a loud car stereo. Invariably, they are hispanics who don't speak English (or are pretending they don't), and the response is "I know NOTHING!" ("I hear NOTHING! I see NOTHING! I AM NOTHING!" - heh)

Now, remember that I can't "formally" complain about these gang-bangers, or they will know my name and address. Just what I need, eh? I have a Rottweiler - and these waterheads are always afraid of dogs. But in a couple of weeks me and my dog might be gone for two or three weeks (going to PA to bring my baby back :) - I love you, Brian), and I don't relish the thought of having gang-bangers trying to figure out where to sell my computer while I'm gone (*sigh*).

I'll try to keep up to date on what's happening on this. It just might turn out to be fun, taking care of this business . Compared to Chicago (where I grew up) gang-bangers, these guys are babies.

Anyway, yesterday and today my roommate and I have been rearranging the house so that the room I sleep in is QUIET. No more sleeping in the lovely master bedroom - but oh well, it's now my office, so I will actually be spending more time here than I did before. I'll get used to it. Though this morning, when I went to the kitchen for coffee, I automatically brought it back to the room that *used* to be my office. For a split second I couldn't figure out where my desk was.

Oh woe is me...

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