New people just moved into the apartment directly above ours. Last night, we heard all kinds of banging, like they were installing shelves or putting up hundreds of picture frames.

Tonight, Greta and I were curled up in the front of the TV, enjoying an episode of Lost and eating chocolate ice cream. We started to notice some loud noises from upstairs. They continued to get louder as the night went on: rap music, loud voices, hooting and hollering, and even some chanting.

I stepped into my slippers and walked outside to the front of the building. I found the source of the commotion in the room directly above Jack’s. Our new neighbors were playing a rowdy game of pong or beirut. As I write, I can hear them celebrating each and every sunk ball, and protesting each and every save. The worst is when someone cheats…it’s a really tough crowd. (Good news is that I haven’t hear anyone yell “CONSOLIDATE!” Yet.)

This sucks. Do I go upstairs and tell them to keep it down? I can’t have them waking up Jack.

But I have to admit that the room is PERFECT for a pong table. I bet you could fit a couple of couches on the sides and put speakers up on the walls. They obviously assembled the table last night, and proudly threw a party tonight to christen the thing.

If I was still in college, I might sneak up there one day with some friends and take a chainsaw to the table. Or maybe just steal it and paint over it. Or buy a winger and launch beer cans at their windows. You get the idea.

But I’m not in college. I’m a Dad. I’ve been working all day and I just want to watch TV, then brush my teeth, floss, and get in bed.

Hopefully some old fart will complain and put a stop to this. I’m much too with it to say anything.