What Are Neighbors For?

My. God.

My neighbors are so damn crazy. There's Lois outside now blowing leaves around the driveway like she's clearing the White House Lawn for Jenna Bush's Wedding. For the love of all children with ear infections who are finally napping - it's January! Nobody cares about your damn stray leaves leftover from November! Her husband, John, a late 40's/ early 50's dude with a mullet has a bad habit of screaming at their teenage son and calling him into the street for a fight. So far, no punches have been thrown. I think I am more likely to call John into the street, though if I hear such foul mouthed screaming through my closed windows again. 

No wait, There's more. My neighbor Tim, he wipes down his cars every morning. Top to bottom. Wearing his spotless sneakers out there in the wee hours with his immovable hair. His wife, Meena - she blows her leaves off her lawn, across the street, under another neighbor's truck. Passive aggressive anyone?

My neighbor directly across from me - a flight attendant, she stands outside and smokes while she cackles on the phone over the latest work gossip. Cackles, pierces my eardrums and brings my blood to a boil.

The neighbors to our left top them all. They win the Crazy Badge because from what we have been told and seen with our own eyes, many of the seven or so people who live there are, in fact, crazy. They are also incredibly messy and have not made an improvement, including a paint or scrape job on the exterior of their house since, oh say when the pilgrims still lived there. But the funny thing is, I don't mind them so much because they keep to themselves. I don't hear a peep except the night before recycling is picked up and the poor mom is gathering up to two or three garbage cans full of glass beer bottles. It sounds like the back of the Beach Comber Bar on a Sunday morning then.

I live on a nice street. Seriously. I do. I just never realized how crazy people are until I had to live right next to them in this house with the paper walls. I mean that must be what they used to build houses in the 1800's, right?

Most of these people are totally nice. John brought August back a cute stuffed bear from his family vacation in Florida. His wife has shared not one, but two pots of stew with us this winter. Their dog is August's surrogate pet. And Tim & Meena - they would loan us their children as slaves if we asked. But they are a sitcom. There is so much irony on this street, it puts Arrested Development to shame.

I am not a suburbanite.