There was a picture of my neighbours in the local paper this week, in an article about neighbourhood noise. The problem wasn’t living next door to me, but rather our city-centre building’s location on a raggarunda route. I have written about raggarunda before… it is neighbourhood cruising in (mostly)classic American cars with the music turned way up. It is not techno or hip hop bass though… it is usually rockabilly or country. It has a bit of a hick flavour, picture 6 leather-clad individuals rockin’ out in a GIANT 70’s gas guzzling domestic beast. On Fridays and Saturdays, a few of these pass my balcony several times each night, shaking the windows as they go by. I did notice that this last Easter weekend was especially loud; I chalked that up to the warm weather making the locals more frisky and eager to spend all night riding around town. I had jet lag anyway, so it didn’t really bother me, but it is pretty irritating to have people over and have our conversation suspended while the raggabilen rolls slowly by.
The cruising folks seems pretty clueless… I think they honestly feel everyone must be looking out of their windows with envy and appreciation, they don’t seem to register the annoyance. Although universally well-liquored, they also seem to be quite friendly and I don’t usually get an aggressive vibe, just party-time mindset that is oblivious to folks trying to sleep. My poor neighbours!