Speck and Plank Problems

Being the old people my husband and I have become, we retired around ten o’clock last night, which was the same time the neighborhood fireworks began. I have never heard such a celebration for New Year’s in all my years of living here.

The local effects of a pandemic the year before seemed to create an extra desire for a change of any sort in our community.

But what annoyed me was their music playing till two o’clock in the morning. Usually, my next-door neighbors are super respectful, and I don’t mind the Tejano music they play during celebrations; it makes me crave tacos, which I also don’t mind. But this was no Tejano music. It was some obnoxious, modern party stuff.

I crankily rolled over and shook my fist at them.

However, my complaints changed nothing.

Sleep eluded me. As I struggled for conscious alertness, my ears strained for the source of my frustrated slumber. Where should I confront them? Should I politely tap on the front door or barge into their backyard to get their attention? How would I admonish them? Then a greater wave of annoyance threatened to drown me in a flood of ultimate irritation. My husband rolled over in bed, sensing my exasperation, and I gripped his arm with one hand and exclaimed, “It’s our radio!” He ripped the cord of that contraption out of the wall as if it had been more than the cause of a few hours’ annoyance. It seemed to be the release of frustrations from the entire previous year.

Indeed, I believe it was the defining move that ushered us into the New Year, not the ball dropping (or the potato if you happen to live out here in Idaho), nor the flip of a calendar page. No, my friends, it was the extraction of our alarm clock radio! As for my New Year’s resolution? I’m going to pay more attention to the plank in my eye instead of the speck in my neighbor’s.

Wendy Williams