Selfish Honkers

Raising four children is a recipe for interrupted sleep. There is always a reason why one of them wakes up in the middle of the night and causes one or two parents to get out of bed and deal with the insomnia.

In our household this list includes but is in no way limited to: nightmares, missing stuffed animals, in dire need of a band aid, scary noises in closets, alligators under the bed and sheer panic at a sudden realization that homework due in the next day has been ignored.

All of the above are legitimate reasons for kids to deprive themselves of much needed sleep and no matter how tired my wife or I are, we understand and deal with each mini crisis.

We also have an elderly cat who is convinced that my wife is her mother. She is nocturnal (the cat not my wife). She has an amplified built in purring mechanism and is a world leading expert in drooling on unsuspecting faces.

So sleeping through the night in our apartment is a rarity. It has nothing to do with the fact that we live in New York City. Even though we live on a side street and it is relatively quiet compared to the noise on the major avenues; there is a certain amount of "street sounds" that I have learned to block out.:With the exception of last night.

I thought I was dreaming about a large truck out of control, beeping senselessly to alert me to get out of the road. But all I did was stand there seeing its lights getting closer and closer and I heard the noise of its engines rise to a crescendo that warned me of an imminent sudden impact. The most overwhelming sound that pierced the cold night air was the booming horn that was a constant accompaniment to the foray that was developing.

The truck never hit me. It got pretty close, but I woke up just in time. The lights of the truck had vanished but the roar of the engine was still prominent and the horn sound was deafening.

I jumped out of bed looked at the clock which said 3.13 am and headed for the window in our living room to view the commotion going on in the street below. A large truck was trying to get through but the breadth of the street had been reduced by the snow pile up and the truck was having difficulty avoiding hitting parked cars on both sides.

So when in trouble and in doubt the truck driver decided that the best policy was to start honking his horn incessantly to wake up the neighborhood. Taxis had started to form behind the truck and were also sounding their horns. These horns were higher pitched and more frequent.

Neighbors across the street were hanging out of their windows screaming obscenities at anything that moved below. I opened my window to an orchestra of horns accompanied by a chorus of curses.

The graveyard shift doormen were all in the street along with residents in bathrobes. Horns were honking at such regularity that it was impossible to hear the fracas between truck driver and residents that was unfolding before my eyes.

Suddenly a taxi driver all the way at the back of the line got in his car, started reversing while honking and disappeared to the safety of a much wider Third Avenue. Soon others followed suit leaving just the truck. The honking had stopped. It had been replaced by the higher pitched beeping of a truck reversing. The driver had given up and was retreating. The cursing neighbors started applauding. We had won" The battle of the honking truck.". Residents and doormen dispersed, windows closed and quiet reigned again supreme. I heard one last curse directed at the selfish honker from an open window just above mine and then I dragged myself back to bed. As per normal my wife and kids had slept through an earthquake type event. No stuffed animals were missing and even the cat looked like she was in a coma so I shut my eyes ....and then the alarm went off.