you could hear it coming from at least 2 or 3 blocks away. by the time it passes, the walls of the house were vibrating like a snare drum. and it seemed as if the drywall was going to fall off. you couldn’t hear yourself think. how they could stand to listen to the so called music at such volumes was, in itself, amazing. the future, hey, look at me, generation, would all be stone deaf by the time they were 30. if they lived that long. maybe that’s what they were figuring.
though it was hard to say with the majority of youth these days. or at least that’s what the 3 friends told each other as they sat outside in the patio drinking beer or wine on temperate evenings. it wasn’t so bad in the colder months as the dumb fuckers needed to have their windows rolled up against the cold and the car stereo turned down to more moderate levels. even they couldn’t handle the crappy music at it’s usual warm weather levels in an enclosed car.
it was late fall and the 3 men were just about ready to call an end to the outside drinking season. a bit too chilly for their old bones. not to mention muscles and joints that seemed unable to unwind after sitting and drinking in the cool fall evening air. it didn’t take long for another ear piercing car load of kids to race by. the friends just looked at one another and shook their heads. nothing to be said. it had all been said before. numerous times. or had it?
one of them spoke, ‘damn. i’m sick of those little fuckers and their loud crappy music and their fucked up attitudes in general. seems like we should do something about it.’
‘yeah, sure, like what?’, one replied. the other friend just sat there sipping his wine. listening. the second friend continued, ‘what do you suggest? maybe shoot the little fucks?’
‘hmm. yeah, that thought has crossed my mind a time or two when they drive by at 2am in the summertime with the stereo blaring. i’m damn sick and tired of those wake up calls.’
the third friend spoke, ‘i think we’re all sick and tired of that. it’s getting cold. let’s go inside before we can’t move at all.’ with that the men went inside and the patio drinking season came to an end.
winter passed quickly for the 3 old men. but then time seemed to pass more quickly with each passing day for them all. winter should be no different. with the advent of warmer weather and fairly tolerable early evening weather, the 3 friends, once again, gathered in the patio for their nightly chat, along with a taste of beer or wine. the warm weather also meant that along with the swallows coming back to capistrano, the local youths would have their car windows rolled down and the sound system cranked up at levels high enough to vibrate nails from wooden 2x4s. it wasn’t long before the seemingly endless parade of high decibel ear piercing vehicles made their way up and down the city streets.
‘those little fuckers. damn it, i didn’t go off to nam to come home and get spit on and then in my so called, goddamn golden years, have to put up with those little cock suckers and their shitty so called music 24 hours a day. what the fuck?’
‘yeah, me too. i’m getting to old for this. i need my beauty sleep. something should be done. maybe we should start going to city council meetings or something.’
‘fat lot of good that’s going to do. those assholes are more concerned with lining their pockets than actually helping any of their fellow citizens. unless of course, it’s an election year and they are running scared figuring the new asshole is going to thump them in november. then they just might, maybe, trim a few trees on your block, if you grease the campaign coffer a bit.’
the reticent member of that band of brothers said, ‘maybe, just maybe, there’s something we can do after all.’ the other two looked at him with a glimmer of hope in their eyes. as he never said much but when he did it usually amounted to something or another the other 2 could at least agree with. ‘we could could start capping the little bastards. one fucking car at a time.’
‘sweet , jesus, and i thought you were gonna have something useful to say.’
‘that’s right. what the fuck? start capping the little bastards. this ain’t nam and the little creeps aren’t viet cong.’
‘yes, they are. nothing more nothing less. just stupid little fucks who want nothing more than to fuck everyone else’s lives up. they are too stupid to know any better. their parents are as dumb as they are and they probably encourage their shitty behavior. capping the rancid shits would probably get us a medal in saner times.’
‘holy shit, brother.’
the other two friends sat and looked at each other. no one said anything for a time. not even when the next car or two passed with it’s ear shattering thumpaty thump thump thumping noise. finally one of them spoke, ‘hey, my ears are gonna start bleeding. let’s call it a night. maybe there’s still a ball game on or something.’
with that, the first evening of the warm weather patio beer and wine drinking season came to an end, on a rather odd note. the talk of killing the abusers of peace and quiet had put a damper on the festivities. there wasn’t a game on the tube, so the others made their way back to their respective houses and that first night of the drinking season came to an end. however, a seed had been planted. in the fitful tossing and turning nights, so called sleep, the seed began to germinate.