My ‘Hood has lost American Dream. Not The American Dream, as in the concept of being able to elevate one’s position in life through hard work and diligence.
Our lost American Dream is the man who moved into Section 8 housing in the neighborhood a few years back, a young black man (from Philadelphia, of course) with a mate and a growing number of kids in tow, who told one neighbor he was living the American Dream, residing in a nice neighborhood with a family and dog and not having to bother to go to work.
Said neighbor told me about American Dream’s joy and I was almost jealous that I’d had to work and save to get here. But, I brushed aside quickly such envy and nicknamed him American Dream.
There were reports of more children through the years, not necessarily reinforced by sightings. But there were noises of playing children from within the house. My wife and American Dream even addressed the possibility of his eldest son and our youngest granddaughter being in the same kindergarten class.
American Dream was notable for yelling while playing video games, these verbal outbursts at first incorrectly were mistaken for domestic discord.
Generally speaking, American Dream was an ideal neighbor. He didn’t have a car and so did not partake in the street’s parking grab game.
He didn’t have wild parties. He didn’t make noise at night, as our street’s current overcompensating young guy does.
All interactions between me or my wife and American Dream were cordial, even amusing.
Once, he wandered over to borrow my cell phone while I was washing my 2004 Mustang GT and asked if the car was as old as me. Considering I was 67 years of age the time and car was a 2004, not even close. If it were a 1955 vehicle of some description – Mustangs were not yet on the road when I was born – then we were talking.
And so it went through time, with American Dream asking to borrow a phone or tool, and once proudly announcing to us that he’d finally bought a lawnmower to address his overgrown grass, although it was used but once by our count. He also seemed able to afford to pay a lawn service without working.
The house was notable for virtually constant deliveries, often of things such as a cup of coffee and perhaps a muffin. Other times, it was large orders of goods from places such as Walmart.
More recently, American Dream approached me to provide him rides to work. Yes, he’d gotten a job, but had no transportation. He wanted to pay me to ferry him around, but as I pointed out to him, our overbearing government makes such things massive tax headaches. I’d discovered this by being an “independent contractor” as a freelance writer, or having the temerity to win some money one year doing LEGAL online gambling. Take my word for it, the paperwork is cumbersome and makes it not worth the effort.
Because of this, I wasn’t interested. Still, we’d exchange a wave or hello as the ride provider he eventually lined up dropped him off. All seemed well.
But earlier this week a utility truck pulled up and seemed to be terminating service as noticed by my wife. The presumed landlord showed up, pounding on the door and demanding to be let into the house – think of the fairy tale of the big, bad wolf and three pigs – but was unable to blow the house down.
The next best thing for the landlord was to call a scout on a motorcycle who arrived and seemed to enter the house with the landlord. Shortly thereafter, a platoon of workers with trucks showed up and, to put it mildly, created the kind of stir American Dream never had.
This included throwing stuff out, including at least one door and other large items through second-floor windows. Televisions also failed flight tests as did a sofa and assorted furniture.
An inquiring neighbor, while walking her two enormous dogs, requested a heads-up regarding the din and was told by one of the workers that the tenants had departed without notice and left the house in what he termed, a real mess the neighbor wouldn’t believe.
This Wrecking Crew (not to be confused with the band of excellent Los Angeles studio musicians who backed up groups such as the Beach Boys on many of their hit records and went by that Wrecking Crew nickname) knocked off at about 8 last night, but showed up this morning to resume emptying the house’s contents the easy way.
At this rate, the place will be all but gutted in no time at all.
Soon, another Section 8 tenant will be in place. My tax dollars at work.
I think I’m going to miss American Dream, wherever he is.
Sam Ross Jr's site 