DO YOU KNOW YOUR NEIGHBORS?

HUTCH - NEVER DID SEE HIS FACE

It all started on a winter night back in 1996. Jane and I had just bought our first house in Archbald, PA. We were enjoying our first snow storm of the season.. It was cold and blustery outside, but I was dressed for it. I didn’t let anything bother me that night. You see, I was content by the fact that I was shoveling my own snow, and not the snow of some landlord. I owned that house, and I owned that snow. Well, the bank owned the snow too, I guess. That snow fell on my property, and nobody was going to shovel it but me.

Well, I was just about done cleaning the walk, when along came the silhouette of a elderly man, in his late 60’s, walking his dog. I could tell his age by his walk. He was walking a big, ugly, white, poodle-type mutt. I stopped my work to greet this man from a distance. I thought to myself, he must be my new neighbor. He was across the street. It was dark. I called out as he drew near, “How ya doin?” The warm friendly voice of this gentleman called back to me, “Hi, how ya doin?”. I didn’t make out his face, but he seemed like a real nice guy. His dog seemed nice too. What a nice new neighborhood, I thought.

These meetings would go on many times a week for the next few months. There was one problem. I could never see this man’s face. He was kind of like the guy on the other side of the fence on that show with Tim Allen, “Tool Time”. I was getting to know this man really well, but never saw his face. Eventually he was starting to call me by name. He would walk by, only under the cover of darkness. He would always call out, “Hi Tom, how ya doin?” My response, “Good, how are you?”

Now I’m a little frustrated. I didn’t know his face or his name, but I new his dog. Plus, a nice old lady walked that same dog during the day. She must have been his wife. I figured out where she lived. Now, I did a little research with “the ladies” of the neighborhood. You see, “the ladies” are always good for giving up other people’s personal information. Eventually I found out the man’s name was Hutch. I don’t know if that was his first, last, or nickname. So the next time he came past me at night and called out, “Hi Tom, how ya doin?”, I responded, “Hi Hutch, is that you?” He said, “Yes”. I said, “Good Hutch, how are you?”

Well needless to say, we are now friends five years later. Well, as friendly as people who don’t know what each other look like could be. We always say something nice to each other. We never get too personal, but always exchange a friendly word. In fact, we have never said anything negative to each other. Something else is very odd. Hutch only walks that dog at night. I have never seen him during the day. Even in the summer, he only walks that dog after it’s pitch black. Is he a vampire? Is he allergic to the sun? If I bumped into Hutch in a grocery store, I would not know who he was. I’d feel like an nitwit. I know his silhouette. I know his voice. I know his wife. I know his dog, but I don’t know what Hutch looks like.

Now many thoughts have come to me on this Hutch dilemma. I could run up and tackle him, and shine a flashlight in his face next time he walks by. I could invite him to my porch, or even into my house for a beer. While wearing a mask, I could knock on his door, get a good look and run. The possibilities are endless. After many years of contemplating this matter, I have come to peace and made a decision. It’s just me and that fictional character Tim Allen plays, that have this similar situation. I don’t want to know what Hutch looks like? Hutch and I have a very good relationship as it is. Why ruin that?