When we moved into our house, over 21 years ago, we had no idea we were joining the neighborhood equivalent of Ripley's Believe It Or Not.
A brief description of our neighbors includes:
The man across the street who suffers from an acute case of Adult ADHD, we call him Captain Hyper. Seriously, this guy canNOT just sit still and enjoy life...no, he must fill every waking moment with home improvement projects, including adding on a second story game room, building a backyard gazebo, complete with electricity and natural gas hook ups, installing a wrought iron fence, building a side patio, with the flagstones placed in a decorative "cloud pattern", AND remodeling the doorways and archways of his home with the latest in home decor...the quarried stone. Oh, and did I mention that this guy does all this HIS OWN DAMN SELF!! Yep, no contractors for Captain Hyper...he does all this work on his own...which is MOST annoying, because it just points out the slackassedness of his across the street neighbors (us), who have the Home Improvement Work Ethic of "It's time for roof repair when the shingles start showing up in the yard" and "Why mow the grass? If we don't water it, it won't grow and "voila" problem solved". Oh, and let's don't forget, in Captain Hyper's "off time" he also designs and makes Christmas Yard Art to sell during the Holidays....uh huh...a real pain in the butt, this guy.
Now, our next door neighbors on our right side, are a horse of a different color. These people we've affectionally nicknamed The Vampire People, due to the fact that we NEVER see them leave their house, unless it's to have a knock down drag out fistfight in the backyard, which ended when I climbed our adjoining fence, hanging over the top, and waving my broom yelling "Hey, Hey, cut that out right now!" Surprised the shit outta me when they actually DID stop and took it inside. Apparently I have powers I have yet to discover, and I must remember to use these powers for Good and not Evil.
Anyway, The Vampire People lived in their house for, about 15 years before they even planted a single shrub in front of their house. Don't even ask about their backyard...I believe there's a good chance an ancient civilization may be living and flourishing in all the crap they have stored back there. But, they are a welcome balance from Captain Hyper and his "If You Hold Still, I'll Remodel You" philosophy.
The neighbors on the LEFT side are a study in human psychology (or psychiatry - you decide).
The family consisted of two parents and two sons. Unfortunately, the Patriarch recently passed away and, I'd be less than honest if I said he was anything more than a cantankerous, mean, cheap, SOB, with a STRONG sense of "Whatever I want to do is fine, but if you do it, there'll be hell to pay."
In, what I consider to be one of Life's Hysterical Ironies, after "Big John" died, his wife began to run amok. That poor man wasn't even settled in his casket good and she DOVE right into home improvement BIG TIME...I'm talking foundation work, gutter replacement, painting the house, new fences AND, the woman actually chopped down and/or ripped out EACH AND EVERY SINGLE TREE OR SHRUB THEY OWNED!! Now, the particular irony in this is that Big John flat LOVED his yard and, even up to the end of his fight with cancer, he could be found out trimming his trees and tending to his flowers. The Merry (or maybe I should say Euphoric) Widow wasted NO time before she thoroughly demolished every single thing her Dearly Departed loved. Hmmmmm, can you say ISSUES?
Her two sons are a story unto themselves. The oldest makes Budda look like he's dropped a few pounds and I swear to you, the cartoon character Baby Huey was the mold for this poor guy. Imagine my pleasure and pride, when I rounded the corner one day and saw him sitting cross-legged on his front steps, in a sleveless t-shirt and shorts (shudder), smoking a ciggie and crying because he was currently having some major car trouble. Oh yeah, a sight ANY homeowner would be proud to behold. I could just HEAR our home values rising! P.S. Let me just say right here, that, while I won't say I'd NEVER smoke...if I ever did smoke and I was STILL FAT, I'd surely be pissed as Hell and somebody would have some explaining to do.
Now we to come to our most famous and infamous neighbor, the youngest son of Big John and The Merry Widow, whom we've fondly named Demon Child. Demon Child was 4 years old when we moved into our house, and he immediately started on a journey of vandalism, stalking, wanton destruction of property, public urination, peeping in windows and just generally psychotic behavior. I am CERTAIN that one day, some reporter will be shoving a microphone in my face and asking me questions about him...and let me tell ya, I'm gonna sing like a bird. This kid is a serial killer waiting to happen!
He began his crime spree at the age of 4 by regularly ripping all the flowers out of our flower beds. This led to him unscrewing our Christmas lights and throwing them, one by one, into the street to hear the "pop". After that he took to wearing Halloween masks and looking into our windows, while growling maniacally at the dog.
Public urination was also high on this kid's list of favorites...beginning with him standing on his front sidewalk and seeing how far he could pee into the street, he was about 9 years old at the time. Now you might be thinking, "Oh, ALL boys play their little piss games." Let me point out here the last time I was lucky enough to see Demon Child whip it out and let it fly he was around 20 years old and was right outside the big bay window in my kitchen.
Life next to Demon Child hasn't been without it's lighter moments, though. Once we were across the street at Captain Hyper's house for a BBQ. We're all sitting around and a guest, who DOESN'T live in this neighborhood notices Demon Child is running around outside his house with a paper bag over his head, growling, and running into trees, mailboxes, retaining walls, etc. Demon child was about 12 years old at this time. Now, what's funny is that those of us who lived in the neighborhood thought nothing about it...it was just another day in the life of Demon Child.
I notice "the guest" keeps looking at the bag headed boy and back at us and finally couldn't take it anymore and says "So, what's with the kid with the bag on his head?" To which every single one of us answered..."Oh, that's just Jason". "Um, is he challenged?", asked the guest, sympathetically..."Nope, he's just psychotic" we answered.
It's funny the way things work out. During his entire rampage, Demon Child's parents never did admit he did anything wrong...I mean Denial was a regular religion with these people. Then Big John passed away and The Euphoric Widow started running amok. Now BOTH boys have moved back home with her and the neighborhood is once again treated to Baby Huey Budda's public crying jags when his life gets too tough, and Demon Child's car alarm ROUTINELY goes off each and every night at around 1:00 a.m.
While these episodes are petty and annoying, I can't help but think if Momma and Daddy had cracked the whip a little bit more, maybe the Prodigal Sons wouldn't have been quite so quick to beat a path back home.
Which reminds me...I need to go smack my kids for no apparent reason.
