Damned Neighbours Sorry about not getting those Pennsic entries posted yet.
Still not quite recovered from Wednesday, and have to be up
early (for me) in the morning to go back to PA (but the other
end of the state, I think) for a gig.
Baltimore has a central non-emergency phone number, 311.
It has a recording on it, saying that between 22:00 and 06:00,
only emergency calls can be taken, and for police or fire
issues call 911. A noise complaint isn't exactly a "wait
until morning" deal, but neither is it quite an emergency,
so I dialed the Southern District police station ... and
the gentleman who answered the phone said that for a noise
complaint I had to call 311. He sounded quite surprised
when I told him about the message for middle-of-the-night
callers, and patiently explained that officers can only
be dispatched from the 311 center or the 911 center.
I haven't called 911 yet. Still thinking about it. If
the neighbours jack up the radio to wall-shaking levels
again now that I've quietly and calmly explained that I
have to get up in the morning, that might push me that far.
I did notice how quickly, and embarassed-looking, the
ones who had been sitting on my front steps picked up their
drinks and moved away when they noticed me approaching my
front door. And how the first woman I addressed stared
blankly at me as though she spoke no English (which for
all I know may be the case, though I haven't noticed any
other languages I recognize being spoken by that crowd
before). Another woman stepped closer to ask what was
wrong, and I explained again. At least this time I didn't
hear the drunk one complaining loudly for five minutes
about how rude I was, like the first time I called out
the window that they were drowning out my television and
would they please back the noise down a notch.
Interestingly, the party still seems to be at least
as loud in the back yard as it was this afternoon when
it seemed like I'd get some quiet in my front rooms
because they were all back there. That was the radio
somebody cranked up to wall-shaking levels, about half
past midnight -- the music in the front room that
they're playing loud enough to listen to on the sidewalk
is either CDs or a different radio station than the
back.
I get that it's a Friday night in summertime, really
I do, but a) this doesn't just happen on weekends, b)
I'm getting tired of reminding them over and over just
how loud they are, and c) after seven hours of the noise
(about four hours in front, seven hours in back)
and feeling headachy and having to get up early, I feel
that waiting until well after midnight to ask them to
be quiet (as opposed to merely not drowning out Bill
Moyers Journal, which I really wanted to hear) isn't
too terribly unreasonable.
I understand that the kids are going to screech a
bit (and wail -- it sounds as though one of the
smaller ones just skinned a knee or something), but
the grownups have no excuse for their
screeching and yelling so loudly with such disregard
for their neighbours (my neighbour on the other side
mentioned getting complaints from the folks a few
doors down from him, about these folks).
I'm not quite to the level of offpissedness to
be as petty as blasting recordings of their own
voices through the wall after they go to bed, using
the big speakers and >100W amplifiers, but I'm
annoyed enough to have had the thought cross my mind
a few times.
When I'm in my bedroom, away from the windows,
using my phone normally -- not in speakerphone mode --
the person on the other end shouldn't be able to
listen to what my neighbours are saying, should
they?
Dammit, they're getting louder again.