Missing the old neighborhood

I have no doubt that anyone reading even the first few sentences of this column will guess my age and they will definitely be right on the money. Yet, although I am not a kid anymore and I’ve gone through the so-called many phases of life, I do not consider myself a close-minded person. I am very much up to date with technology, and I feel very much at home with different kinds  of software. I do pay my bills online, and guess what? I just connected my iPhone to the printer through wi-fi, which made me feel I am pretty much in touch with our new reality.

But when I recently signed up to one of those social media apps that helps bring neighbors together and gives the people who live around us a sense of community and fellowship, that’s when I realized how old fashioned and outdated my way of connecting with people has been. And it appeared that the only way I might have a sense of joy and connectedness with neighbors is if my skills are, using a tech word, “upgraded.” Which means that instead of a face-to-face and personal interaction, I should use an app to communicate with people who live only a stone’s throw away from my house.

And this is exactly where I felt an inner resistance and total unwillingness to adapt to this new reality of what a neighbor and neighborhood means to me. In fact, I actually felt that emotional need to somehow transport myself to those olden days, where instead of scrolling up and down the screen to find out what’s going on in the neighborhood, I wanted to actually feel and sense the person, the beating of his or her heart, the facial expressions and the tone of voice of the person I am in touch with.

Oh boy, now the reader will definitely know my true age, especially when I tell the story of when, decades ago, neighbors watched my aunt climb the roof of her house and shout from the top of her lungs informing the folks in town that her daughter just had a baby girl who is as beautiful as a mermaid and that the baby had blue eyes like her old Uncle Samuel, and curly hair like old Aunt Martha.

The echo of that announcement reverberated from window to window, door to door and from mouth to ear until the entire neighborhood knew all about the baby girl who had blue eyes and curly hair. And in return they whispered prayers and expressed wishes of health and happiness for the parents and the new baby. And that’s exactly how news was broadcast and how people expressed their feelings of joy and sadness in those now forgotten pre-tech days.

But that’s exactly why having been brought up in an old-fashioned neighborhood, I felt it was perfectly normal for me when my wife and I first moved to this beautiful town of Lakeville, to walk across the street and knock at the door of my neighbor and ask if they have any advice in finding someone who can shovel out the snow. And to my surprise and astonishment, my new neighbor, who couldn’t even pronounce my name, told me that he would be delighted to plow the snow himself and that will be without any charge. And that was for me like a homecoming thousands of miles away from my birthplace.

To this day, I am still a believer of getting my information from an actual person, a human being with whom I can share a laugh, a shake of hands and at some point perhaps a cup of coffee and, why not, sometime in the very near future a backyard barbecue with all the members of our families.

But things have changed. Don’t I know it?

And even an old-school fellow like me understands the hazards of openness with neighbors who might seem friendly but might intrude on our privacy and cause trouble. Yet, I will always before login to another neighborhood app will not hesitate to knock on a neighbor’s door, say, “Hello neighbor,” and after a little chat about the best or worst pizza place in town, I will ask if he has any suggestions on where to buy a Christmas tree.

And that’s the flesh and blood kind of neighborhood I am still longing for. Which proves the saying that you can take the man out of the old neighborhood, but you can’t take the old neighborhood out of the man.

 

Varoujan Froundjian is a digital artist and writer. He can be reached at: varlink3050@gmail.com.

The views expressed here are not necessarily those of The Lakeville Journal and The Journal does not support or oppose candidates for public office.

Latest News

Edward Aparo
Edward Aparo
Edward Aparo

Edward Aparo passed away peacefully at his home on January 7, 2026 surrounded by his loving family.

Edward was born on May 10, 1936 in New Britain, CT. He was the beloved son of the late Anthony and Rose Valenti Aparo and attended New Britain schools. On April 7, 1958 Edward married his school sweetheart Jean Ackerman beginning a devoted marriage that spanned 67 years. Together they built a life rooted in family, hard work and love.

Keep ReadingShow less
Salisbury prepares for launch of 100th Jumpfest

Henry Loher flew farther than any other competitor at Jumpfest 2025

Randy O'Rourke

SALISBURY — Salisbury’s longstanding tradition of ski jumping is reaching new heights this year with the 100th annual Jumpfest, scheduled for Feb. 6–8 at Satre Hill.

The weekend-long celebration begins with a community night on Friday, Feb. 6, followed by youth ski jumping competitions and the Salisbury Invitational on Saturday, and culminates Sunday with the Eastern U.S. Ski Jumping Championships.

Keep ReadingShow less
Richard Charles Paddock

TACONIC — Richard Charles Paddock, 78, passed away Friday, Jan. 2, 2026, at Charlotte Hungerford Hospital.

He was born in Hartford on April 12, 1947 to the late Elizabeth M. Paddock (Trust) and the late Charles D. Paddock. He grew up in East Hartford but maintained a strong connection to the Taconic part of Salisbury where his paternal grandfather, Charlie Paddock, worked for Herbert and Orleana Scoville. The whole family enjoyed summers and weekends on a plot of land in Taconic gifted to Charlie by the Scovilles for his many years of service as a chauffeur.

Keep ReadingShow less
In Appreciation: 
Richard Paddock

SALISBURY — Richard Paddock, a longtime Salisbury resident whose deep curiosity and generosity of spirit helped preserve and share the town’s history, died last week. He was 78.

Paddock was widely known as a gifted storyteller and local historian, equally comfortable leading bus tours, researching railroads or patiently helping others navigate new technology. His passion for learning — and for passing that knowledge along — made him a central figure in the Salisbury Association’s Historical Society and other preservation efforts throughout the Northwest Corner.

Keep ReadingShow less