[l33tbro]

I was moving furniture last night. In the rain. Pissing down. Had one friend with me hauling stuff from van to doorstep. My 'neighbour', who I've never met, simply stood on his doorstep (our houses touch one another) and didn't even say 'hi', let alone ask if we needed a hand.

Was I pissed at this? I thought it was a little rude. But on reflection, I don't really care too much. In fact, I prefer it this way. I like choosing my friends and have a diverse cast of hand-picked co-conspirators in my life. So I enjoy that, today, I am no longer geographically obligated to make chit-chat to this uncouth guy next door.

This is what this article misses. It directly correlates the old archetype of a buzzing neighbourhood with the issue of loneliness and it's health impacts. It's a false pretense that the article was written on, and it conforms to the Luddite pandering to 'the good old days before computer' that at one point it actually mocks.

I'm sure if the guy next doors house was on fire, I'd help him out. But I can live with the idea of him not coming around to borrow a cup of flour.

[samscully]

I have seen people in my neighbourhood (Bermondsey in London, UK) struggling with luggage twice, luggage that was clearly far too much for them to carry on their own. Both times I offered to help them take it from the train station to wherever they were going. The first time the man accepted my help, the second time the woman politely declined.

Even the first time I detected an uneasiness, partly because we were strangers of course, but also I got the sense that the man was very wary of putting on me at all. Perhaps because people like not having obligations towards their neighbours it feels wrong to accept help and thus set up an expectation of reciprocisity. Maybe this then leads to not offering help because it is assumed it will be refused?

London is a particularly atomised place of course, back home I think I would have got a very different response.