Keeping it in the neighborhood

Heat notwithstanding, our neighborhood godfather, Jim Altobelli,

called a meeting of the 5 O’Clock Club last weekend to meet the

family that just bought Ron and Beth Darling’s house. The newcomers

had stopped by to do some measuring and didn’t get past Jim, who

invited them to stay for a drink in his frontyard and then summoned

the rest of us.

The last time we greeted new neighbors, our ebullience scared the

daylights out of them. That was more than a year ago, and they

haven’t surfaced since, despite repeated invitations. But not this

time. The current newcomers are Chuck and Christine and their

2-year-old son, Charlie, who is actually a junior, thus requiring his

father to be Chuck in order to avoid confusion. They took all the

ebullience in stride. Or certainly seemed to.

Beyond the fact that we are a gregarious lot given both to

enjoying and being there for one another, we all had our own special

reasons for wanting to size up our new neighbors -- but none more

compelling than mine. Ron Darling literally kept things running at

our house. I had the comforting feeling that if he was dealing with a

compelling problem in his law practice when my computer went down or

my plumbing backed up, he would be torn between which to take care of

first.

The Darlings have outgrown their house but not their neighborhood.

They are moving around the corner and a block down an adjacent street

to a larger home. This occasioned Ron to suggest to the assembled

group that he and his family be given both a goodbye party and a

welcome-to-the-neighborhood party when the move is completed in a few

weeks. Although this plan seems excessive, it is under advisement.

Meanwhile, Ron insists that he will be available to deal with

crises in our life from his new location. He keeps saying, “What’s

the big deal? We’ll only be a block away.” As a lawyer, he must know

this is specious. During the years they have lived across the street,

his car and the lights in the Darling house were always in my view,

thus providing no clear line of escape for him and a comfort zone for

me that will soon be gone. Expecting similar skills from the

newcomers is especially dubious because Chuck is also a lawyer, and

two lawyers who aspire to be handymen in the same neighborhood is

pushing probabilities to an absurd extreme.

To the Darlings’ great credit, they made considerable effort to

screen the potential buyers for their home. I suggested a series of

questions they might ask prospects -- ending mostly to political

preference and a positive attitude toward professional baseball --

that I suspect weren’t used, but if the letter was lacking, the

spirit was present. It was rumored that the Darlings told their

realtors not to consider anyone who said unkind things about the

nature of the neighborhood. Then they put their money where their

soul was by buying a block away. And they insist that our impending

annexation to Newport Beach had little bearing on that decision.

It’s uncertain how this move will affect the “Neighborhood Monthly

Edition,” written and edited by Cory and Jamie Darling and their

friend, Emily Baker. The first issue came out just before the Darling

house was sold, and so this news didn’t make the paper. Bad timing.

Because fact checking was a little spotty, at least one Letter to the

Editor is in the works, which should help fill some space in the

second edition since summer is notoriously low on news, leading to

such items as Nancy Dawson “taking the mattresses off the top of her

car.”

Some important points were established during the introductory

meeting in the Altobelli’s frontyard. Chuck plays poker but described

his skills in such a deprecating way that he will have to be watched

carefully. Christine is two generations removed from Finland and will

produce a second child in February, which should make a news item for

the Neighborhood Monthly. Each of them had a soft drink, which might

be seen as carrying on Ron Darling’s tradition of drinking nothing

but Mountain Dew, which gives him a decided advantage in the later

stages of a poker night.

In the almost 20 years my wife and I have lived in this Santa Ana

Heights neighborhood, the turnover has been remarkably small. Kids

have grown up and gone away to make their own lives, and when they

come back to visit, they have more in common with the old folks than

with their youthful friends. The bonds that have remained strong are

among the old-timers who have seen each other through some difficult

times and places -- and some joyous ones, too.

The Christmas luminaries and the Easter Egg Hunt that have become

neighborhood traditions, along with the summer gatherings for drink

and talk and the interdependence we feel is not for everyone. We run

it up the flagpole and embrace those who salute. It works.

It works so well that the Darlings are staying in the neighborhood

and another young family is taking up residence. So I don’t really

care if Chuck doesn’t know anything about computers. Ron is still

just around the corner.

* JOSEPH N. BELL is a resident of Santa Ana Heights. His column

appears Thursdays.