Last night Denis and I went out to dinner and left the kids with a babysitter. It was a nice couple hours of alone time, but upon arriving home at 9 p.m. we found the mad drummer from across the street had invited some friends over. From INSIDE OUR HOUSE you could hear the hot guitar licks and jammity jams as though they were in our living room playing a live show. Since it was after 9 p.m. and my kids were tryin to sleep I went outside to get the house number in order to complain to our Home Owner’s Association. But I was so mad about it that I ended up just marching up to the front door and ringing the bell.
A kind looking woman in her late 50s came to the door and I forcefully said, “I’m sorry to complain, but I have a 2 year old that is trying to sleep and can’t because of all the noise.”
She quickly apologized and said that she’d tell her son to turn down their amps. She was so nice and apologetic about it that it calmed me down, and I said, “Tell them that I think they are really good (they are), but that playing this loudly at this time of night is not allowing my 2 year old to sleep.”
She explained that her son (18 years old) and one of his bandmates (they’ve played together for three years) had both joined the Marines and both leave Monday for bootcamp, so this week is kind of their “last jam” before the band is kaput. I said, “They are welcome to play as much as they want, and as loud as they want until 8:30 p.m., but by 8:30 p.m. it has to be doen quietly so my son can go to sleep.”
I then paused and said, “I’m so sorry that this is the way we’re meeting – with me complaining about the noise.”
She said, “Oh, don’t apologize, if I had known you had young children I would have told my son to play more quietly once you moved in. I just had no idea!”
With that we said good night and parted ways. Before I had even finished walking to my front door the music had stopped, and I could hear her telling them to turn everything down.
They played for another 30 minutes or so, at much quieter levels, although we could still hear the bass quite clearly as we sat watching TV in our living room. But when I went to the front door and opened it, they were really very quiet so I didn’t complain again.
But I’ll tell you – Sunday’s true last jam will be a monster session, I’m sure!