Dr. Kendall Crowns

And that was, I initially pounded on the ceiling with the handle of my broom.

This was ineffective because it was often actually not loud enough for him to notice.

And when he did, he would either turn up the noise or pound on his floor back.

I even put a couple of holes in my ceiling pounding so hard.

And when my dad came up to visit, he had to help me patch them up.

After the pounding was unsuccessful, I got creative.

The apartments we were living in had the same footprint, so I pretty much knew the layout of his.

I knew where his bed was, where his television was, etc., etc.

I found his phone number in the student directory.

And this is, of course, a time before cell phones and caller ID.

It was good old-fashioned landlines.

I could track where he was in his apartment based on his thunderous footsteps.

And, of course, I knew the location of his phone.

It was the same spot as mine because all the phone jacks were in the same place.

My diabolical plan was, when he got really loud, I waited until he was at the farthest point from his phone in his apartment, and I would call, and I could hear his phone ringing.

His music would turn off, or whatever activity he was participating in would cease, and he would walk across the floor, thump, thump, thump, and when his footsteps would get to his phone, click, I'd hang up.

I could hear him pick up the phone and say, hello, hello, and then hang up, frustrated.

The footsteps would move away from the phone, heading back to his noisy activity, and I would call again.

His phone would begin ringing, and he would run over to the phone, and just before he'd reach it, again, click, I would hang up.

and sometimes sit in my apartment and laugh a little bit.