Neighborliness

Ok, I’ll tell you a real story without changing any names!  I have to set it up for you so you understand the spiritus mundi of that time. 


In 1978, the conservative culture had lost. Nixon had resigned and was disgraced, Vietnam finally ended a few years earlier and Archie Bunker types became the butt of jokes. 


I had a neighbor, a Mr. Jeffries who was from the WW2 generation. He was  a nail eating type who never saw combat in WW2. He made no bones about voicing his opinion on the hippies, rock music or anything that was against the Vietnam War.  He was proudly anti Communist and told anyone within earshot.  I never did like Mr Jeffries.   I could remember disliking him at five years of age. 


Ok…


My Dad had died a year earlier so I was free to do whatever the hell I wanted.  I grew my hair out long. I was free and easy. I would stay out late and go anywhere I wanted without a reprimand from Mom. Want to know why I could get away with it?  I never gave my Mom any major trouble. I never brought the cops home with me and my grades were excellent in school.  I was stable.


One day in the summer of ‘78 I was riding my bike on a lazy August afternoon by Mr. Jeffries house. I was bored and wasting the afternoon away being completely unproductive.  For some reason, he bolted out his front door and pointed at me and said rather loudly: 


“Your father in heaven would be ashamed of you now!” 


I just straddled my bike, wondering what on earth did I do to provoke that?  I didn’t know it then but my appearance and lack of discipline he thought I needed,  pissed him off to no end. I had become a reprobate in one year’s time due to the lack of guidance from my staid, very dead, Republican Dad.  


There are times when you are stung by some biting criticism and you come up with a great comeback a few days later. You wish you could go back and fling it at the offender, but, it’s too late. 


This time…that didn’t happen.


I looked at Mr Jeffries, and said: 


“What makes you think my Dad is in heaven?”


He just stared at me, slowly turned around and went inside his house without saying a word.  


I gave him what he wanted to believe and in doing so, crushed him. Here was this 13 year old kid, now obviously a god-less, little pinko commie, spitting on his father’s memory. 


In truth, I was ditching the religion before that. Life after death, heaven and all that stuff was being weakened in me when I discovered biology courses in school   The Church had lousy explanations for why the world worked. Science had more tangible ones that made more sense.  I began to believe the real place of my Dad was 2 ½ miles away, in Mt St Mary’s Cemetery and not on some cloud plucking a harp. 


And…the neighborhood thought of my Dad as one of those trustworthy, good guys. “Richard was a good, decent man” I would hear often.  Let me tell you, my Dad understood the nature of image and putting forth a nice front!  My Dad at the time completely understood PR. He worked in the banking industry and when pushing loans on people, you have to come off as honest!  By the way, he wasn’t all that angelic if I were to tell you everything about him. So his being in heaven due to his “decency” is iffy!   So, my rebuke to Mr. Jeffries was a harsh one in his eyes, with his understanding of my Dad. 


In truth, I didn’t care what Mr. Jeffries thought of me. In fact, the more he hated me, the better. 


So many years have passed since that event. I have to wonder though. What would you think of a 57 year old man shouting to a 13 year old kid,  about his dead Dad’s ephemeral opinion of his son? 


Weird guy…