I’m Not Creepy, Am I?

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Back in April, I listened to an episode of the Radiolab podcast that, anyone who knows me will tell you, fed my need for neighborhood voyeurism. The episode, The Living Room, is a first-person account of a one-sided relationship between a woman and her two young neighbors. It was touching and creepy, all at the same time. I have listened to it two times since that day in April. Go ahead, I’ll wait. I know you want to listen to the podcast. I don’t mind, the link is right there for you. Do what you need to, and then come back. I will then finish my post.

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Presumably, you are now drying your tears and feeling a little guilty about being a part of Diane’s window-watching, but not guilty enough to not listen again. Diane (the storyteller) says that at one point she started using her “birding” binoculars. Funny thing- I have my own pair of “birding” binoculars. The only bird I ever spied with them was from someone’s middle finger.

When we go to the park or the beach, or even when we are sitting on our front porch, I like to pull out my birders and see what’s going on. I am fascinated by the mundane, or not so mundane, lives of the people around me. I get a lot of my story ideas from these viewing sessions. I’m not out-of-control, and I’m not perverted (at least not in this way). I have watched as one my neighbors plays outside with her kids, or someone else walks their dogs. Granted, up until two weeks ago, my at-home viewing was done from the front porch of a house in a pretty quiet neighborhood. Not a lot going on. But now, the game has now shifted…

We moved from our large house, in a quiet town in North Idaho ,to a mid-sized apartment in a city six times larger. And to top it all off,  our apartments are arranged around a courtyard (like one of my favorite voyeur movies-Rear Window). Not only do I see the goings ons in the courtyard, but also on the balconies. It doesn’t hurt that no one closes their window shades either. It’s a mecca for bird watching. I really haven’t even needed my birders. Yesterday, however, I pulled them out to investigate some sounds I heard behind our apartment- took me a minute to focus and see it was a few stray cats going at it. When I panned up, there it was. The bird—from the finger of a tall, skinny white kid in a wife beater. I honestly don’t know if it was meant for me or not. It sure looked like it was, but I am awfully far away, and it would have been hard for him to see me clearly from that distance. Only time will tell if he caught me spying—I expect it will end with him closing his curtains. I didn’t want to watch him anyway.

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