My Dad and I bought a house on Penn Street just about three years ago.

Part investment property/part ‘my first house’, I lived there until the first week of February.
Once the reality of self-employment…coupled with the ever mounting energy costs hit me like a sock full of quarters on the side of the head while walking home on Third Street sank in, I decided it’d be a better financial (and safety) move to trim the fat of my existence and move into a small, basic, clean and manageable two bedroom place in Midtown and polish up the Penn Street stone to rent it out for a few years.

I’ve really got my fingers crossed about the announced plans to essentially overhaul Maclay to Muench from Front to Third by knocking down the crackhouses and putting up some Capitol Heights filler- at least for a few years so I can turn a profit on the place that’s surrounded by every criminal element known to man on either side.

But I digress…

I’m in a cozy little two bedroom at Second and Calder now. It’s nice. I’m surrounded by the Broad Street Market, Midtown Cinema, Midtown Tavern, The River, Ciervo’s Pizza and Bayou for Brunch on a Sunday morning is a nice crispy stroll. Oh! And sooner than later, Nonna’s is moving in on Reily Street!
Not to mention, my neighbors are Chile, Donny and Jen, Brooks and the bridge to Sarah’s is only five or six blocks away now.

I really do love this neighborhood.

But my neighbors- man, do they ever suck.

My office/main space where my PC/Mac/Music are- is directly above her bedroom.

If I play music louder than a hamster farting she is at the doorbell/intercom FREAKING OUT about the noise.

Just this past Friday morning, I was heading out the door at around 8AM and she followed me out to the front steps-

“Eh-scuze me! Eh-scuze me! What the hell is tha mattah with you with all the loud music at one thirty in the mornin?”

Hattie is her name.

I said “Hattie…Look, I’m really sorry about the noise…I…I keep late hours…and, um…I think that your bedroom is right below my subwoofer on my stereo system. I really try to keep it down but I guess I’ll turn it lower.”

But the ironic part is- the couple and their eighteen month old upstairs from me must play catch with fifty pound weights at some point during every single day. And they must suck at catch because it sounds like they’re dropping fifty pound weights on the floor all the time!
I can understand coming home and kicking off your shoes, letting them fall to the foot of the bed- but JEEZ! I started joking with my friends, describing them as “the elephants” but DAMN! These guys are more like the running of the bulls in Pamplona every night of the week.

Look, my point is- the crabby old lady downstairs sucks- she bitches and whines EVERY chance she gets- and the people upstairs are all clunky and loud-

But really, for what this place is- I’m a pretty happy guy.

I think I finally feel at home in Harrisburg.

video://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6e8aOdPxhI