CounterPunch Exclusives

CounterPunch Exclusives

A Loon Poster Does Its Job

After a pleasant half-awakening by the inevitable 4:15 am American Robin alarm, I had long since drifted into a deep sleep. “Woooop! Wooop!  Woooooop! This is the Outagamie County Sheriff’s Department. Occupants of number eight one eight—lower apartment—we have a search warrant. Come out the side door with your hands up, nothing in your hands!” blaring through the open, street-facing window of our second floor bedroom. Thus was I rudely awakened at 7 am on this 9 June, hot summer morning, a short walk from downtown Appleton, Wisconsin.

It had been less than a year since new tenants moved into the first floor apartment of the house next door. We had barely ever seen them—only brief glimpses, apart from the young, overly-barky dog often tied out back last Winter. But one day a van was parked at the end of our shared driveway, blocking me in, and so I knocked on their door to explain the logistics of it all. She introduced herself,  apologizing profusely that he must not have known how it worked, and the van soon disappeared.  A couple of times, after the weather warmed, I saw the kids tossing a ball back and forth in their small backyard, adjacent to ours.  I rarely saw him at all.

Once, as we were backing out, she happened by with the dog on leash, as awkward and jumpy as the untrained young shepherd, gesturing for me to roll down the window. She wanted to apologize for the barking.  The van appeared once more, this time parked next to my car, but with its back end sticking out so much that I was again blocked in.  Not needing to go anywhere soon, I this time put a post-it on its window, politely (I hope) explaining the rocket science of pulling forward all the way.

The last time I saw her clearly was on Memorial Day. The parade passes down our street at about 9:30, and Vali and I watch, coffee in hand, from the front step. We are interested mostly in the high school bands and the watchers, who have brought folding chairs to the city-managed strip of grass between the sidewalk and street.  We (myself in particular) are mostly out of the loop, but there is always someone to talk to.  Ty and Kathleen at least, will arrive on their bikes and camp out front. There was the smiling........

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