ABOUT A WEEK after a superblizzard roared through earlier this month, I awoke again, as most people around Boston did, to howling wind and swirling snow. The first thing I did was look out for our neighbor. There is always at least one neighbor whose approach to shoveling is more than efficient and closer to maniacal. It’s beyond traffic-cone-and-lawn-chair maniacal. It’s grab-your-hot-chocolate-and-pull-up-a-chair-’cause-this-is-more-interesting-than-Facebook maniacal.
I do not know this neighbor. Our apartment complex is large and provides a lot of temporary housing for corporations. While everyone is friendly, not everyone stays long enough to forge the kinds of bonds the term “neighbor” evokes.