I have a neighbor--J--who keeps his eye on me. He reads my blog every morning, he asked me to join his monthly reading group, he comes to all my house parties and when he comes across an article about humor or comedy or anything we've talked about, he photocopies it and leaves it in my mail-slot. On Friday I came home to an envelope from him with a Boston Globe article about the now-discontinued Blackwing 602, which I had never heard of, but thanks to my neighbor I know have TWO of my own!

I haven't thought much of being neighborly since I left my parent's house. Back home it was easy to be neighborly since I grew up knowing all of the families. When I moved to Austin there was a certain level of southern hospitality among neighbors, but with the exceptions of my apartment neighbor whose dog, Mikita, liked to chase me into my apartment and play with me when I came home from work; and my duplex neighbor who owned a pet rat like I did, I never really did much in the way of knowing the people I lived near. In Boston, I didn't even think to meet my neighbors. It's too cold outside.

When I first moved in with my girlfriend, we had a housewarming party and invited our friends and a few people from the neighborhood, and J was the first person to arrive, housewarming gift in hand, welcoming us to the neighborhood and telling us about the monthly book group and making it evident that he seemed to know everyone on the block. I still don't know that many of my neighbors by name, I know several by face, and a few more by their dogs. I'm not very good at meeting people. But I appreciate J's openness and neighborliness (I think I made up that word), I appreciate that he thinks about me when we're not talking and I appreciate even more that he is willing to be so generous with his friendship.

Thanks J.