Unlike a Good Neighbor

This weekend, while waiting on some of the less sane in our party to finish up a ride at Kennywood, the girlfriend, an old friend of hers, and I had an interesting little discussion about neighbors. Specifically, neighbors who move into an area and then demand that the neighborhood change. The girlfriend's friend mentioned another amusement park that is now surrounded by residential neighborhoods with people so sensitive that the park has to put "do not scream" signs on specific rides. I countered with tales of race tracks (drag strips, mostly) across the country that were originally built in the middle of nowhere now being overtaken by sprawl. These new neighbors have the audacity to then complain about the noise!

Fitting enough, on the way back to the Ranch on Sunday, I heard this interesting story on NPR about a variation on the same thing. It seems that for years, drummers and other musicians (mostly drummers) have gathered in Marcus Garvey Park in Harlem on Saturdays for impromptu jams. The beat ebbs and flows most of the day, a feast of improvisatory rhythms. However, in recent years, high-end condos and revitalized homes have been built around the park and - guess what? - the folks buying those homes are starting to complain about the noise.

I simply don't understand it - the jam session in the park has been going on for 30 years. There's no reasonable excuse for not knowing about it before moving in, although the realtors apparently aren't helping - they paper over the ethnic makeup of the park by referring it as Mount Morris Park, in spite of it being renamed Marcus Garvey Park in 1973. It's arrogant, rude, and just plain shitty to move into someone else's back yard and start bitching about how they live their lives. My subdivision is next to the Interstate, which I knew when I bought my house - should I complain to the state about the road noise?