09-05-10

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I Need to Get the Hell Out of the City. (download)

My neighbor yelled at me yesterday. I was playing drums in a garage that we share. He was enraged, possibly drunk, and listed about ten reasons why it wasn't right to make music in the space.

I was shocked and embarrassed. My friend Steve had come over to records drums for a project (it sounds really great -- can't wait to share it) and we had just set up and got levels right. I was just about to press the red circle of the record button and the doors to the garage opened. It was jarring.

My neighbor talked for such a long time. Why I should stop playing music -- why I shouldn't have started in the first place. No insulation. His living room is right there (pointing wildly). Shared space. Unfair. Etc. It was clear that he had practiced the speech. I kept saying "Fine," but he kept listing reasons. Some of them didn't make any sense to me, but I said "Fine" to them too.

Later, I told Steve that I felt poisoned by the experience. I just couldn't make any more music.

I love San Francisco. Most times I enjoy having people everywhere all the time. Yesterday, however, the closeness got to me. I ran around the city afterward, and it calmed me. I listened to music that I had made, and I felt proud of it. The cocoon of headphones made me feel safe.

I have my own speech prepared for my neighbor the next time I see him. It goes: "We are neighbors. We are going to bother each other sometimes. I know you don't know me very well, but I am the type of person you can tell something once politely, and I will respond politely."

I think that should do the trick.