What's Good for the Goose...


I can always tell when summer season's zeroing in. It's not the change of weather, it's the incredible noise that summer people make - mostly from their own throats. I don't understand why summer people feel compelled to be so frigging loud.

For example, it astounds me how two older and non-hearing impaired people down a ways can be so loud, not to mention disrespectful of their neighbors. In the middle of the night they arrive, waking me up from slamming their car doors: KATUNK! KATUNK! That's followed with honking for five minutes, an indication that they locked the car doors with an electronic key.

It's fucking isolated here. Why in the world would they lock their doors? To make sure BEARS don't get in?

Now that I'm wide awake, I get to hear the entire drama. The husband yells to his wife three feet away, "Jenn-i-fer!"

She yells back from three feet away, "What do you want, HARV?"



Then, I get to hear an hour of their noise while they unpack their car, KATUNK KATUNK honk honk honk, "JENN!"

"What, HARV!"

KATUNK KATUNK honk honk honk



Fucking assholes. They believe they're the only ones around. Yet, they get pissed at me the following day when I decide to mow the lawn at nine in the morning.


Then, we've the guy who screams bloody murder at everything the moment he gets up here. The filth that spews out of his mouth, the yelling, shouting, screaming. And he doesn't live anywhere near me. He knows I've a rare deafness which I explained countless times, but he doesn't understand the shouting from his big mouth goes through my head! Hell, it wakes the dead from miles away! When he sees me, he gently smiles and talks softly. He ain't fooling me, that's for sure!

Unfortunately, I live in a seasonal resort area for the shtetl mentality. They may have money, they may be educated, they may be anything, but Jewish, but they've the same shithead perspective. I don't know what to call it except shtetl mindset. I just don't get it. I never will.

The way they act, I swear, they must be on drugs. Mind you - these are MIDDLE-AGED people and they treat this area like one fucking dysfunctional Club Med. The shouting, the screaming, the carrying-on. If they act the same way at their winter homes, they would be carried away in straight jackets, mocked by their neighbors and community.

So, they come to the summer place to act like jackasses. Great.

Now that I crossed over and became a full-time resident, oh boy, do I understand the locals' point of view, all right. The summer residents blatantly ignore that some of us happen to live here all year round and require sleep at night, especially on Sundays, Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. But that cuts into these people's alcohol/drug laden shrieking time. How dare I complain?!

My all-time favorite is the hysterical hyena. No fucking way do normal human beings laugh like that for hours, sometimes all day and all night. Why don't they just play recordings of canned laughter to convince others they're really having the time of their lives? For what other reason would people laugh like that unless they're on drugs or mental patients?

I just don't get why these momzers act this way. It's like this is the highlight of their lives, coming up here and acting like idiots. I bet they've never done anything, but come here and a few guided tours overseas, their view of the world in tunnel vision.

I've heard a lot of them address us full-timers as 'yahoos' or worse. The majority of us full-timers had led interesting lives as artists, business people and seasoned international travelers. Some of us speak five languages; almost all of us have advanced degrees. Yet, by virtue of living in this rural area all year round and operating businesses dependent on the summer crowd, we must have hayseeds in our hair. Or worse: we're the HELP.

I've traveled extensively for business and recreation by myself. I've lived overseas for years. What does that matter when dealing with a middle-aged chump with a gut, gastric problems, rampant alcoholism and a cigar hanging out of his mouth with stained brown teeth? He's the one who spends coin up here. He's the one who frequents our local businesses. How could I dare diss this monied asshole?

Still, I don't get the thrill of spending two months a year in the former borscht belt upstate New York that requires a 50+ year old person to scream like a fucking savage and shriek in shrill laughter like a besotted hyena at 2am on a Wednesday.

Perhaps it's beyond my ken - what do I know?

I don't possess the shtetl mentality which is why I don't fit in here. Besides, I'm single so I'm a threat to these summer people. Too many married men have hit on me, even in front of their wives the few times they bump into me as I tend to keep far far far away from them. As if I'm interested in these bloated, decrepit, shrieking individuals. I resent that, especially trying to make me party to these people's fucked up lives.

Trust me, I want nothing to do with these people. I rarely socialize with them and try my best to ignore them. They have yet to understand that I don't want to be part of their lives! I'm NOT interested in either spouse, God FORBID! All I'm interested in is not being subjected to their fucking NOISE!

Which makes this tirade even more comical. For how they reacted the one time I made a peep. O M G! Last summer, my girlfriend came up late at night to visit for a weekend. We sat on my deck drinking wine and talking - no screaming, shouting, howling, baying at the moon, hyena laughter - on a Saturday night around 3am when suddenly lights from surrounding houses turned on.

"What the fuck's going on?" asked my girlfriend. "Look - someone popped their head out of their window. They're staring at us!"

"They're curious and indignant that I've the temerity to make any sound whatsoever," I responded.

"I heard those people the other times I visited - they sounded like lunatics. How dare they!" she said, up in arms because they grumbled about my friend and I talking loud enough for us to hear.

"This is what happens - what's good for the goose is not good for the gander. Only they're permitted to have lives."

That's when it dawned on me that all this noise is done for my benefit. They want to prove to me that their pitiful lives, despite their money, is worth something. Until then, I never realized how much power I have. I rather have the silence instead.

That's why, dear Reader, I love winters here. From October until May it's a delight and perfect without the summer people. I don't care that I freeze my bupkas off. I don't care that it's totally isolated. And the only visitors I get are strange men who need to spend a week with me in the depths of winter.

For even those strange men know how it gets up here with the summer people.

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