My neighbor Gordon’s personal hygiene is suspicious and his attire often not season-appropriate, or appropriate, period. A mesh tank top, velour shorty robe with no visible pants, yikes, yet despite his dishabille, Gordon is the eccentric front man for his even more eccentric siblings: a brother, who is blind and quite possibly demented, and a selectively mute agoraphobic sister. In a neighborhood of normal, their evident peculiarities are a source of speculation and gossip. But none of this impacts the fondness I feel for Gordon and his siblings.
Especially Gordon.
Gordon had a car that fell apart a few weeks ago and he hasn’t found a replacement. I wondered how they were getting food. I was worried but hesitant to stop by. For one thing, I know they value their privacy. Also, being honest, their house is so gross that it’s challenging to even stand on the front porch.
But yeah, like I said, I was worried, so yesterday, when I saw Gordon walking Mia, his elderly pit bull, I was relieved. I asked him how he was managing to get groceries. I recently tried to explain to him (in vain) that his new smartphone was useless without a service provider, so I knew he wasn’t up to Instacart.
You know me, I’m a walker, he said, recounting daily forays to Stop and Shop or Krauser’s, both some distance away. You wouldn’t believe the things that have happened to me. A complete stranger gave him a ride! An acquaintance saw him walking with four shopping bags, so she took a couple and walked with him the rest of the way home, and they had the best conversation! Friends have been keeping an eye out for a used car he can afford. And then, he said, there are folks like you. I am surrounded by good people.
I’d always thought of Gordon and his siblings as sweet but wacky outliers. But in casting myself as benevolent neighborhood guardian, I fell into the patronizing dynamic of us and them. Gordon sees, and has only ever seen, us.
The good news is, car or no car, we are going to be just fine.