Remembering Lord Pompost

The Kramers had moved. They
had lived in the apartment in that
building over there forever.

Now, they were gone, and there was
a new tenant.

It wasn't as much of a shocker as it
ought of been. The neighbourhood
was beginning its decline.

People who could were looking to
move away, far away..

The Kramer's had bought a house
away. They were an old retired
couple who had moved to the area
when it was solid middle class.

It was now a noisy neighbourhood
with lots of kids.

I was one of the kids.

The community was made up of a bunch of six storied apartment buildings
with wide courtyards between. This courtyard is where we played as well as
the big playground to the West.

It wasn't the kind of place one expected a pompous old fart to
move into, and if moving in, realise he didn't belong so move out.

Move out so as not to spend his every waking moment complaining about the
noise and the kids and whatever else bothered him.

I forgot his real name, but we had called him Lord Pompost, a mixture of
Pompous and compost.

The name kind of stuck

He had a way of dressing in this ever so shabbily snobbish manner. He had this
prissy way of looking down his nose when he spoke, even if he had to tip his
head way back cause the person in front of him was taller. .

If any of the adults tried to be friendly, he would take it as an introduction to
brag and lecture, and acted a if he were a millionaire, describing places he
had lived and people he had known.

But he wouldn't be living here if he could pay higher rent.

No one believed a word he said, and often we'd hear our parents complaining
about his smug and insulting manner.

As kids, (and some of our parents) used to imitate him, and he became that Demotivational Poster.

When any of us acted presumptuous or snobby we'd name them Lord Pompost.
If we bragged, tried to show off or act better than other people the saying was;
"Oh Lord Pompost! When Did you Walk in?"

Our parents, who knew what we were referring to duplicated. Anytime we behaved
in a snobby way, they'd say the same thing, (which is where we got it from.)

The image of that pretentious prig stayed with us and we never bragged about our accomplishments or tried to lord it over anyone.

When we grew up and had kids of our own, we used him as who they did not want to be.

When I reflect I realise that bad examples, more than good ones, are the best teachers.