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My house faces onto a park. For this, I am extremely grateful. For every child’s scream, there’s a happy dog dashing about. It has its benefits. The park is ringed on its other three sides by apartment buildings, and someone in those buildings thinks it’s appropriate to blast CBC radio in the wee single digits of the morning. On the weekend.

I can’t say how many weekends this has happened, but it has been frequent since last summer. I sleep with my windows open, and the sound happens to funnel directly through them. The volume is loud enough that it sounds like I’m playing it for myself. This is further complicated by the fact that my alarm IS CBC radio, so you can imagine how many false starts my weekend mornings have.

I’m gonna make a quick note here for my Amerifriends about CBC radio, which is essentially like NPR in the states. If blasting NPR sounds amusing to you, then you understand that inherent ridiculousness of this situation. You also probably understand that CBC (and NPR too, I’m sure), especially in the early morning, plays shows that mix current events and GODAWFUL TERRIBLE NICHE INTEREST music, like that which bolted me from my bed at ass o’clock this morning.

Later this morning, after being woken up for the second time at 9:30am (by stupid Men of the Deeps), I pulled on a shirt, put on my fucking pants, and headed for the patio doors. Through the window I could see that there were only 4 people awake in this world… a couple puttering about with garden supplies on one of the apartment building’s big lower patios, a dude with a dog in the park, and me. This was gonna be it.

Let me point something out here, though. It’s one thing that my peaceful weekend morning is disturbed… that’s irritating, but it’s not the end of the world. Since Andrew has started working weekends, however, his early morning rest is extremely important. Just because some geriatrics saw enough Home Depot commercials and feel empowered to DIY to the sweet sounds of singer-songwriters yowling between updates from Syria doesn’t mean that they can hold others, not fortunate enough to have a weekend to themselves, hostage.

With that in mind, I headed out the gate, ready to give someone some updates from Syria of my own… and then my neighbor came out to speak to me. Now, I have no problem with that. She shares this issue, and they have tried to resolve it in the past. It is from her that I gleaned that apparently it’s NOT the people on the large patio, since they had questioned them on a previous occasion.

Here’s what I do know, however. There was no one out and about, other than those I mentioned. If someone was blasting CBC inside their apartment at volumes loud enough to filter through my windows, the cops would already have been called by their neighbors on many occasions. My thesis? The people on the patio fed ‘em a line. This is supported by the fact that the second my neighbor & I started having this conversation, the radio magically stopped, and you better believe that my neighbor’s voice carries just as clearly as mine does.

After our conversation, I headed across the street to the park anyways, and wandered around near the source of the sound… The couple on the patio saw me pretty clearly. They know the score. Whether it’s them or not, the next time I get woken up at the crack of dawn, I’m calling the cops, and I’m pointing at them.

EDIT: There has been a development, and you can read about it here.