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Sorry about not getting those Pennsic entries posted yet. Still not quite recovered from Wednesday, and have to be up early (for me) in the morning to go back to PA (but the other end of the state, I think) for a gig.
Baltimore has a central non-emergency phone number, 311. It has a recording on it, saying that between 22:00 and 06:00, only emergency calls can be taken, and for police or fire issues call 911. A noise complaint isn't exactly a "wait until morning" deal, but neither is it quite an emergency, so I dialed the Southern District police station ... and the gentleman who answered the phone said that for a noise complaint I had to call 311. He sounded quite surprised when I told him about the message for middle-of-the-night callers, and patiently explained that officers can only be dispatched from the 311 center or the 911 center.
I haven't called 911 yet. Still thinking about it. If the neighbours jack up the radio to wall-shaking levels again now that I've quietly and calmly explained that I have to get up in the morning, that might push me that far.
I did notice how quickly, and embarassed-looking, the ones who had been sitting on my front steps picked up their drinks and moved away when they noticed me approaching my front door. And how the first woman I addressed stared blankly at me as though she spoke no English (which for all I know may be the case, though I haven't noticed any other languages I recognize being spoken by that crowd before). Another woman stepped closer to ask what was wrong, and I explained again. At least this time I didn't hear the drunk one complaining loudly for five minutes about how rude I was, like the first time I called out the window that they were drowning out my television and would they please back the noise down a notch.
Interestingly, the party still seems to be at least as loud in the back yard as it was this afternoon when it seemed like I'd get some quiet in my front rooms because they were all back there. That was the radio somebody cranked up to wall-shaking levels, about half past midnight -- the music in the front room that they're playing loud enough to listen to on the sidewalk is either CDs or a different radio station than the back.
I get that it's a Friday night in summertime, really I do, but a) this doesn't just happen on weekends, b) I'm getting tired of reminding them over and over just how loud they are, and c) after seven hours of the noise (about four hours in front, seven hours in back) and feeling headachy and having to get up early, I feel that waiting until well after midnight to ask them to be quiet (as opposed to merely not drowning out Bill Moyers Journal, which I really wanted to hear) isn't too terribly unreasonable.
I understand that the kids are going to screech a bit (and wail -- it sounds as though one of the smaller ones just skinned a knee or something), but the grownups have no excuse for their screeching and yelling so loudly with such disregard for their neighbours (my neighbour on the other side mentioned getting complaints from the folks a few doors down from him, about these folks).
I'm not quite to the level of offpissedness to be as petty as blasting recordings of their own voices through the wall after they go to bed, using the big speakers and >100W amplifiers, but I'm annoyed enough to have had the thought cross my mind a few times.
When I'm in my bedroom, away from the windows, using my phone normally -- not in speakerphone mode -- the person on the other end shouldn't be able to listen to what my neighbours are saying, should they?
Dammit, they're getting louder again.