Hut Hut Hut Hut

"Police search! Get on the ground!"
We've been hearing that a lot the past couple of days.
It's a little disconcerting to hear the morning song of birds mixed with the barking of commands. It's a little scary, passing through the parking lot, to see a line of guys in camouflage, helmets and bulletproof vests snaking around with guns drawn, alternately dropping to the asphalt or pointing into the vehicles.
But it's also kind of cool.
Police tactical teams are practicing across the street from us this week. The reason: Two houses have been sold to nearby Holy Trinity Catholic Church and are set for demolition. But before that happens, the church agreed to let police play with them for a while.
That means that a half dozen times a day, we can look out a window and see eight or ten guys advance on our former neighbor's home, guns (well, I think they're some kind of practice gun because they have blue on the barrels) drawn and shouting. Then there's the routine pounding on the door. And the predictable BAM as the door is kicked in. Then they all come out and do it again. It's like the ending of the Blues Brothers, without the "Hut, hut, hut."
Before that, it was the fire department. We'd look out and see smoke coming from under the roof, or water spraying out an upstairs window. (It was always our dream they would actually burn the houses down while we watched but...sigh...no luck).
Cool and fun as all this is, though, I have some mixed feelings. We live in the oldest part of Lenexa. Our house is closing in on 100, but there's a mix of post World War II houses as well. Many are rentals. It's the kind of neighborhood that's looked down upon in much of Johnson County. I can't help wondering, as I see people drive past to take their kids to Catholic school, if they're thinking the SWAT teams are right at home in a neighborhood like ours.
Maybe I'm being paranoid. I probably am. But the church and a nearby retirement home have been on an expansion kick for the past decade. Gradually, they have eaten away a lot of the old neighborhood. These two houses are simply the next in line. Someday, I'm sure, they'll want our house as well. We're in the way.
It just feels like--with everything going the way it has--we're beset upon on all fronts. Like the person with a "kick me" sign taped to his back.
Best to not think too much, I guess. Just enjoy the show across the street and try to hold out a few more years.
Now where did I put that brainwaves CD?