The People in my Neighborhood

       When I was a child, I couldn't wait for new people to move into our neighborhood. I would go up and introduce myself -- even to people just visiting with a realtor. Although I thought of myself as shy, new neighbors were serious business as far as I was concerned. I would ask if they had kids my age, tell them about all the other kids in the neighborhood and basically let them know that their entire family would be welcomed.  

       Of course, those were the days when old neighbors welcomed new ones with casseroles and flowers and invitations to neighborhood events. Sadly, those days seem to have passed.

       But even if no one in my new neighborhood initially approached me with open arms or casseroles, I have set out to get to know them. I walk Olympia through the neighborhood every day and have made a point of introducing myself to everyone I meet.  Our new house is pretty distinctive in the area, so all I really have to do to generate some interest is tell them which house we have bought.  

       Some of the neighbors have been lovely. Our neighbor across the street has already cleared snow from our driveway after two storms. I'm not even sure of his name, but I chased his snowblower down one day to give him a hug, and later followed up with some wine. I asked another neighbor, who I had met only once, to look after our home while we were out of town for several days. I told her that although we didn't know each other well yet, I had the idea that we would become friends.

       In fact, I tend to made pretty quick (and pretty good) decisions about potential friends.  Even though I don't believe in love at first sight, I pretty much fell in love with Tom -- my best friend -- on the night we met. And it wasn't one-sided. The same evening, he called a friend of his and told him he had met the woman he was going to marry.  

       Another time,  a new lawyer joined the office where I was working. After being introduced to her at a meeting, I decided she had great friend potential. She remembers that I asked her to join me for lunch that first day, and she has been one of my dearest friends ever since -- one of the handful of people on the planet who I know would be with me anytime I needed her -- as I would be for her.  

        I also can make snap decisions on people I don't like. One of my new neighbors, for example, on first meeting Olympia and me, told me that she had a gun and would consider shooting a dog who came on to her property. I could be wrong, but I really don't think there's much chance we'll ever be friends.

       At the same time, I have another neighbor who I really liked both at our first meeting and since. I had already introduced myself to her young sons, and found them to be polite and delightful boys. When I finally caught her in front of her house, she introduced herself, welcomed me to the neighborhood, asked me about Tom, played with Olympia, told me about her husband and dog, etc.  When I complimented her garden, she said she would be pleased to share plant shootings (not dog shootings) with me next spring.  She told me she is a jewelry designer who works at home, and when I said we should get together some time, she raced into her house to get me a business card so I could call her.  A few days later, I did call, and she had me over to see her studio and her jewelry.  I found myself very interested in her jewelry-making methods, and she said she'd be happy to show me how she works -- even teach me to make some things myself. 

       So when I found myself with an extra ticket to see a sold-out concert performance by the famed cellist Yo Yo Ma earlier this week, it was that new jewelry-making neighbor who I wanted to go with.  I didn't know much about her, but I recalled that she had said she liked music, and that her sons played guitar and drums.  But I had no idea if she liked symphonic music. Still, I didn't want to go with any of the people I would ordinarily invite to such an event -- the people who go to such concerts all the time. I wanted to go with her. And when I asked her, she wanted to go with me. 

       She had been to only one symphony concert before in her whole life, but said she had heard of Yo Yo Ma. She offered to drive; she asked me how to dress; she picked me up at the house; she told me her sons were jealous.  At the concert itself, she was interested, inquisitive and excited. She was, in fact, everything you'd want a concert-goer to be. She was like a delighted sponge, soaking up everything the experience had to offer and offering her views on it. Yesterday, the review in the paper nearly exactly echoed her comments.

       On the way home, we also briefly discussed politics (we both were Hillary fans) and books, and she asked me if I wanted to join a book club with other women in the neighborhood. My answer, of course, was yes. 

       And I feel already that I'm on my way not only toward a new friendship, but also toward enjoying my new neighborhood even more. 

       Olympia and I will just have to stay clear of the dog-shooting lady...