So long, Mr. Rogers, may we continue to be good neighbors
Posted 3/6/03

With the passing of the legendary Mr. Rogers last week and a vehicle that wouldnít start, being a good neighbor has been at the forefront of my mind lately.

I had one of those moments the other morning that everyone has likely experienced at least once in their lifetime.

In the market for a new set of wheels, the car dealership was kind enough to let me test drive the vehicle overnight.

All was going well, I drove it around a little and my hubby took his turn kicking the tires to ensure it was going to work for me.

But, the next morning after I loaded the little monkeys, their backpacks, blankets, toys and my backpack, lunch, etc. into the truck, the darn thing wouldnít start.

No go, zip, nothing, no juice, nada.

As Murphyís law goes, my husband had already left for work, so it was up to me to get the battery charger out and hooked up.

Once again, everything was going fine until I realized I couldnít get the hood open.

I pulled the little lever thingy inside the truck so the hood popped open a little. But, when it came to the metal latch youíre supposed to squeeze under the hood to get it all the way open, well...I guess I didnít have the right touch.

So, we all go trudging back into the house - winter coats, boots, hats, mittens and backpacks were dumped on the floor and cartoons were turned on.

Then, I called my neighbor.

"Bob, did I wake you? No, great. I need some muscle over here please," I asked in a kind, but obviously annoyed-that-I-had-to-be-bugging-him-in-the first-place tone of voice.

Less than 10 minutes later, Bob showed up and opened the hood without a glitch - obviously he had the right touch.

We tried jumping it from his truck, but with no luck. And we had no luck getting it started with the battery charger. Now what?

Bob kindly offered his vehicle so I could get the kids to school and daycare and I eagerly accepted his gracious offer.

Do you mind driving a Ford, he asked. Are you kidding me? I would have been happy to drive a hearse at this point.

I made it to my destinations and even stopped at work to figure out how to get his truck back to him, my Blazer back to me and the deader-than-a-door-nail truck back to the dealership.

After some java and a moment to think, I rang Bob back up again.

Hereís my plan, I told him. Iíll have the car dealership drive my Blazer to the house, Iíll drop off Bobís truck and weíll go from there. He informed me he might not be there, though, as heís going out for coffee with his son, which means Iíd be walking a half-mile from his house to mine.

Okay, plan B. Since youíre going out for coffee with your son, how about you pick up your truck at my office, Iíll have the car dealership guy pick me up at my office with my Blazer and weíll go out to the house to get his truck that sits like a lump in my driveway.

"Thatíll work!" we decide.

And it does all work out in the end. The battery likely had been frozen and there was a problem with the starter, but the salesman (now pseudo mechanic) got it rocking and rolling.

And Bob got his truck back.

There are times when we experience bad neighbors. You know, the ones who borrow stuff and donít return it. Or when they do itís damaged and doesnít look remotely like it did when you loaned it to them.

The ones who scream so loud at each other that you can hear them inside your home, even with the radio on.

Or the ones who are constantly getting their nose into your business where you donít want it.

Hopefully, you can deal with it, overcome it, or they move away. You can pick your friends, but you canít pick your neighbors.

So, it sure is nice when you get a good neighbor. And luckily we have quite a few good neighbors in our neighborhood.

I have no idea if Bob has ever watched Mr. Rogers, but he certainly knows what it takes to be a good neighbor.