Do good fences make good neighbors and, if so, what will they bring to the next (cinder) block party? How's that for an imitation of HBO's Carrie Bradshaw (aka Sarah Jessica Parker)?

The other morning while reorganizing the garage (see previous entry), I heard the click-click-click of a car starter. Having spent several miserable winters in the northeast, the cause of the noise was unmistakable...a dead battery.

If our neighbors weren't home while our moving van was blocking their driveways a year ago, we have never met. Consequently, although I did meet her husband on move-in day, the dead battery victim remained a stranger to me...and I to her.

What was I to do, go over and acknowledge her situation or wait to be approached? I didn't have jumper cables, but I did have a car. Most of those whose opinions I respect (especially little sister) would have offered assistance, but some wouldn't. Did it matter that I was a 50+ male, raised in an age of white knights and distressed damsels but now living in the land of "who ask you to"? Should the belief that Arizona is the witness protection capital of the country factor in? Was our neighbor and her children in danger or simply inconvenienced? (What me overthink?)

In business school we learned that taking no action was just as valid an option as making the investment. I and the neighbor-in-distress chose not to include me in the solution. She called for assistance from an employed friend and resumed her traditional day an hour later. (I know it was a friend and not AAA because of the dirty looks sent my way as he arrived.)

Some fences are less tangible than those made of wood in the northeast or cinder block in the southwest. Some can not, in any manner, be judged as "good". Others, however, are appropriate and necessary but also scalable for neighbors in harm's way.