Culver City Apartment Living

Have I mentioned that I live next door to a concert pianist, who is also a piano teacher of children?  Now, some of these children are actually really good.  I would dare say even better than him.  But some….some should never be allowed to touch those keys again.  It seems that it is this particular type of player who is practicing every time I am home.  I also keep my window open most of the time, so you can imagine the kind of agony one has to endure for at least an hour per child.  Every Monday night he has his jazz band over for practice, and I swear there are at least twelve pieces involved.  They rock the roof off until about 10:00, which must be the agreed upon quitting time decided on by the other neighbors.  So far, he has been mindful of this treaty.  It is this very same neighbor who I have caught, on more than one occasion, in our back drive way performing some sort of martial art exercise/dance/ritual while I am attempting to back my car out.  We don’t speak.  Sometimes I wave.  He just continues on with his movements un-phased, not acknowledging that someone is about to run over him.   A true artist.

Secondly, have I addressed the parking situation yet?  As some of you know, parking anywhere in the Los Angeles area is a challenge, and a parking spot is certainly a commodity.  I actually have one, behind the building, and I park right beside a black Porsche.  The only issue is that the owner of this Porsche is slightly over protective of this car…actually, borderline insane with it.  Upon my move in, I was instructed to park as close to the wall as I possibly could, far away from the vehicle  (which is fully covered in a tarp each and every night anyway).  The spot is already tight (definitely for a compact and what I drive is definitely not compact), so it has been a challenge to accommodate such a request.   Lets just say that I now have multiple scratches on my back right bumper that were not there two months ago.  But I must maintain good relations with the neighbors.  I must.  He also never drives it anywhere, but he does move it every morning, tarp removed, to a spot on the street right in front of the building.  For the life of me, I cannot figure out what his motivation is for doing this.  To show it off?  To give it air?  A change of scenery?  I have no idea and I find it odd.  Nevertheless, I park to please.