Searching for Billy Pilgrim

Well, the group-thing went great, and I arrived home in time to not miss a single minute (it seemed) of my loofly redneck neighbour children and some of their friends letting off their own fireworks.

How cute.

I tried to go to sleep because I had to be back at Eviljob early, but I couldn't. I live in fear of one of those little heathens doing something clever like sticking a firecracker up a neighbourhood cat's ass.

No, I'm not being mean--there are some pretty horrid children over there.

So I decided to do my civic duty and keep my front lights on and sleep on the sofa in the front room; I end up there often enough, trying to fall asleep by listening to boring people on CNN, anyway. One more night won't kill me, and from there I can listen for whispers of "Hey! Grab the cat!!". I finally did manage to get to sleep, and immediately launched into the strangest dream... I was walking down the streets of Dresden, back in 1945. It was so real, I could smell the bratwurst.

Ick. Bratwurst.

I woke up when the bombing stopped, in time to see the lights of the Gestapo parked outside!

Holen Sie die Juden heraus! Wir wissen, daß Sie die Juden haben! *

Oh, waitasec...someone finally called the police.

I went outside, blearily bathrobed, to make sure all cat asses were firecracker-free, and had a yard klatch with my neighbour, Barbara. Barbara and her husband are probably in their mid- to late-fifties, and most of the time when I meet Barbara, it's when we've stepped outside to see what the rednecks are up to this time. Barbara has a behemoth cat named Molly who prefers it outside some nights. All of my cats are indoors only, but it'd been Molly I was actually most concerned over; if one of the redneck children went after Molly, she might not run away, figuring it was too much work. Molly's trucking a pretty hefty load, and I guess you have a different set of cost-benefit ratios to consider when you're a cat as big as Molly. Thankfully, Molly was parked at Barbara's feet.

I asked (quietly, 'cos voices really carry at night, so you can imagine the fireworks) what was going on, and Barbara swore me to secrecy--she'd finally had enough and called the police. I told Barbara about my dream, and she said that although she wasn't in Dresden in 1945 either, she expects it sounded much the same. Apparently our beloved neighbour-monkeys confused the 4th of July with New Years Eve, and had a spectacular finale all set for after midnight. One that seemed as if it were prepared to continue for quite a while. I guess the finale part of "spectacular finale" escapes our young varlets.

Barbara put up with about ten minutes of it, and then called the Gestapo. I don't blame her--it does no good to try to talk to anyone in that family; previous attempts to gently coax Him and Her into (for example) not calling the monkeys home by making a loud TWAAARRRPPPP! somehow on some speaker-thing their truck has did nothing. Nor will explanations of the leash laws in this county. It's all a waste of breath.

Though I'd not been so clever as to think of calling the police--I'll have to remember that one. And hope they move. Soon. My nerves can't take this much longer. I don't live in Dresden for a reason.

It warms my heart to see that our country's independence means so much to these kids. No, rilly--it does. I wonder what they think we have independence from... Chinese dragons that we scared off with firecrackers?

I'm tempted to take a video camera over there, and interview them, kind of like when Howard Stern quizzes strippers. I think it would be both rewarding and educational.

And lord knows I can't wait for Kristallnacht...errr...New Years. I know, I know...it happened before Dresden, but I've come unstuck in time. These things happen.







*I'm half-Jewish; I get to make jokes like this. Yes, I think it's funny. Yes, I probably need therapy. And yes, I did too lose relatives. As with everything else, I figure laugh or cry--your pick. And I don't speak German fluently or well (nor do I care to), so it's for purposes of ambience, anyway. :-)