I don't think it's possible to like your upstairs neighbors.

Sure outside my many upstairs neighbors have seemed to be a quiet Japanese family, an east-van upwardly mobile young family and a happy-go-lucky gay couple with a newfound female pal but...Man oh man...

In reality they've been blaring Japanese t.v. at 4am, a constantly crying child and "Train" blaring as they shower the same time I try to shower.

All of these are minor annoyances though. I think in reality it's some deep seated psychic pain involving the connotations that living under someone else makes you their indentured servants and the semi-constant fear that one day you'll wake up to a bell ringing and have to start bringing them their saltpork and kippers from the larder every day lest you be sent back to the isle of wight to live with your cripple uncle the blacksmith.

So be extra nice if you live above someone. Tread quietly, say hello because they are weirded out to do it to you, give your kids a swig of gin and turn down everything you listen to. All we have to fight back right now are mildly raucous parties, not taking your garbage out to the curb when you forget and muffled laughter through the vents.

But someday we'll sleep with your daughters then convince them to kill themselves because you won't let us be together.

just for kicks.

CAM