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| Illustration courtesy of Chabacano. |
A few years ago a spy eye mounted on the roof of a nearby building, scanned the units of the north side of our building, intruding you might say, on the privacy of residents on the upper floors. It stopped only when a television channel picked up the news and “made a story out of it.” I can see clearly that it’s still in place, hopefully eye-balling the lake to the east and not us.
Speaking of eye-balling, I have a problem with “security” cameras, which are only as effective as the person assigned to watching what’s been screened. We have a few in this building, but last year there was a rallying cry from some residents who demanded the whole place be wired for watching. A meeting was called and a security expert brought forth to speak about cost, etc. What he didn’t mention, and I brought up at the event, was
that the cameras can be easily put out of commission because of the height at which they’re mounted. A good swing with a baseball bat would do it. He admitted as much.
It gives me the creeps to think I’m being watched by unwelcome “eyes.” That said, a man at a local market stopped me to chat about my car, a retro baby-blue T-Bird. He seemed nice enough and told me he lived in a cylinder-shaped hi-rise apartment directly to my west. “It’s low-income living built by the city,” he remarked after I told him where I lived. It wasn’t long before photographs of my building appeared at the front desk downstairs. Neatly framed and quite nice, he left them in case he could sell a few. I don’t think any sold, but in a later encounter he said, “Oh, you’re the lady that has red geraniums on her balcony. I can see them from my place.”
That was more information than I needed and I started feeling creepy when I was on my balcony.
Whatever, it was a harmless encounter.
We do live in a fear-based culture, and sometimes with good reason. Now that the economy has tanked, there are far more people living in my building as renters, and every day I see unfamiliar faces. Renters of course are okay, and some are far better than owners, but I grew up in a town where doors were never locked. Those days are gone, along with a sense of community. I remember those days. Do you?
