W is for the Whistling Mr. W

We had a landlord (whose last name started with W) at a house we rented for two years when I was in junior high. He was a short, stooped, and industrious little man, at times generous with his greetings or compliments, and at other times quite the curmudgeon. But for all of his unpredictable social ways, the man never failed to be hard at work outdoors at 6:30 as soon as spring came along. Seven days a week, unless the weather was foul, Mr. W was "up and at 'em" with the sun.

That would have been okay with us, had he not strolled over to our house, which was next door to his, every morning whistling a happy tune. Our windows were old and thin, like him, and his whistling...well, it just started far too early. The worst accompaniment to this whistling was the banging of metal trash cans which he took to the curb for us on Mondays and Thursdays without being asked, if you get my drift. (Does anyone say "get my drift" anymore?) He said he liked doing us favors. Mmm-hhh.

Six-thirty on Saturday morning meant no sleeping in, no enjoying peace and quiet. Nor Sunday.

He was the man I'm sure Solomon wrote his proverb about, the one I read on this 27th day of April.

Proverbs 27:14

"If a man loudly blesses his neighbor early in the morning, it will be taken as a curse."