Why We're Doing This

Serena's sense of humor just kills me. Because we are more than a decade apart age-wise, I cannot remember much about Bewitched episodes. While she watched re-runs, I was probably watching Samantha doing her witchy business in Prime Time. Looking back it was Prime Wasted Time. But I did get one thing out of it: Gladys Kravitz. Although at first recollection I was sure her name was Edith.

I've lived in the same house for 27 years. During that time, the neighbors have come and gone. Some have indeed died. Most have moved away, replaced by other neighbors. Sometimes we have traded up, and sometimes we can't wait for the replacement neighbors to move away. Once, when talking about how our street should really be called Divorce Court, as it appeared very few marriages were lasting, my brother called me Gladys Kravitz. Who? Me? Just because I make it my business to know who lives where and with whom? Just because I was once a BLOCK CAPTAIN of the street? That was back when the police were too busy to catch some serial creep. People were scared, and motivated to come to a meeting where they agreed to do more than drive in and out of their garages each day. They agreed to be neighborly and look out for each other. That was then, and this is now. Creepos are eventually caught or they move on to other neighborhoods. Over time people forget to look out for each other. It takes a Gladys or two to make a neighborhood, to have their fingers on the various pulses that make a block, a street, a neighborhood, and indeed a community work. Want to know what's really going on in the parenting department of our charmed suburban community? Ask Gladys...or in this case, ask Serena and Samantha. They are right behind the lace curtains and...they know.