Neighborhood Watch

Perhaps in this section of the urban jungle they should be called the Porch Patrol. All day, all night, every day. Sitting in front of their rented space, watching-what? No one says, then again no one has asked. Holding court? Maybe I don't really want to know. Thing is, as far as I can tell, no one works. This has become their employment-an obligation of sorts, keeping tabs on all the activity in the neighborhood. Nice concept, I guess. It just doesn't seem to be doing anything useful anyway.
This past weekend there was a string of car break ins, mine included. Punch out the lock, rummage through, grab whatever they thought might be worth something. So where were those gathered on the porch? Were they watching then, in the wee hours of morning? No. I had to make the discovery of the violation later, a hole where my driver side lock should have been. Contents of the glove compartment tossed about. Needless to say I was just a bit angry. After all I had just become the victim of a crime. And the police never even came out. All handled by phone. Something new, convenient? Who was suppose to catch these vandals? Pay for my new lock? Something-anything!
Calmer now, days later, they are still out there-holding court in their own private kingdom. Did I really expect them to notice who could have done this? Of course not, not really. At least they did know I hadn't been singled out. Something I guess.
So our neighborhood watch continues to do as they will always do, keeping watch and saying nothing of any real importance.
What's up?