Many years ago, I had a great job at a factory in Newington, NH. It was a union job with great benefits and pay. It was a job that allowed me to be the sole financial provider for our family and my wife to be home with our two babies. This did not happen without sacrifice as I often worked 12 hour shifts, six days per week, and my family time was not ideal.
We lived in a quiet neighborhood, neighbors close by on either side. Lovely, friendly people, with whom I often exchanged brief greetings and at least waves as we drove by each other. For the most part, and with little effort, I avoided the neighborhood walks and talks and minded my own business.
I should also relay how much I enjoyed playing basketball. I frequently carved out a few hours a week to play at the local gym, though never in an organized adult league. My family was (still is) my life and I had a good sense of where I needed to allocate the rarest of my commodities, time.
My wife, being the thoughtful person she is, gifted me a basketball hoop to install in our driveway. It was terrific - I could burn off some energy playing a sport I loved without leaving the home. The hoop brought me joy without the burden of not 'being around'.
One day, coming home from a long overnight shift, I saw one of my neighbors shooting baskets in my driveway. "Hmm...what is this," I thought, "that's my driveway and my hoop." I parked on the side of the road. My neighbor (let's call him Bob), grabbed the ball and began a conversation with me. It went something like:
Bob: "hey Joe, I hope you don't mind that I was shooting some baskets."
Me: "No - sure, that's fine. As long as the kids aren't trying to sleep."
Bob: "Great. Hey, I was thinking, what do you think about getting together a couple of times a week and shooting some hoops? You know, we could hang out and be friends?"
I'm pausing the conversation here because I'm having second thoughts about telling you the rest of the story. There are some people who would read this and not believe it. My brothers would tell you I'm being far too kind to myself. In any event, let me ask you to refrain from judgement and simply read and observe. Continuing:
Me: "Look, Bob, you're a nice enough guy. I like you and your family. But I work 60 hours a week and have two babies and a wife I don't see enough. I don't have room in my life for a new friendship. But feel free to use the hoop when I'm not around."
With that, I turned and walked into the house, greeted by two toddlers running and jumping into my arms. I never saw Bob in my yard again and our neighborly niceties disappeared. Not on my part, dear reader, but I think Bob was pretty well put off by my response and thought me pretty much an asshole from that point forward.
All these years later, as I retell this story, I see that Bob was right. I was an asshole neighbor. But I was right too. I was a great dad and at least a mediocre husband (like wine, I've improved in the husband role over the years) and had no time to be a great neighbor or friend. I was perfectly willing to be an average or even slightly below average neighbor.
Sometimes, for some people, that's not good enough.
