The Neighborhood

What to write about..what to write about...

I'll try not to make this heavy. I know, I know, I can pack these little stories fat with information and then try to generalize it to a higher plane, all the while making every sentence as rich as a double cheesecake made with caramel. It's not easy to chew or digest.

This problem occurs because if you put me in front of a keyboard and a blank page, I flashback to my college days, with it's term papers and get too damn serious. You have to get that A somehow, someway.

So...here's a summer memory I was witness too a while back.

Our family was not the type to have screaming arguments the whole neighborhood could enjoy. Sure, there was friction, but it was handled discreetly.

We did know a family who didn't give a rat's ass who heard them though.

Tom wanted to play football and was searching all over his house for it. He was then starting to blame his mother for hiding it as she used to complain about us tossing it in the driveway. There were many times the ball slammed against the side of the house with a good WHUMP and that got mom to shriek at us for it.

Tom kept looking and complaining, spitting invectives at his mom who was now getting visibly pissed off at being accused of purposely hiding it. Finally Tom storms out of the house with us in tow, shouting back another insult to his mom for not even trying to help.

As a parting shot to her own son, she says...”If I do find that damn ball...I AM going to hide it on you!”

Then Tom snaps back at her...

“If you do find it...I want you to shove it up your ASS!”

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Here's another battle story from another summer...

Chuck, I and a few others were lazily wasting away another summer evening on the sidewalk in front of Mr Page's house that was directly across from mine. When your 13, you're allowed to flagrantly blow away your precious youth.

We were bored. We were standing around, talking, bragging, kicking patches of sand and grinding the weeds that pop up through the sidewalk with our feet. Chuck then decides to grab a lower branch of Mr Page's dwarf maple tree and hang there, slowing swinging himself to and fro when we heard this loud crack.

Chuck didn't fall far but in his two hands was that lower bough of the tree. We all looked at one another in surprise and Chuck just tosses the branch onto Page's lawn like a used Dixie cup.

This brought Mr Page out in a hurry.

“What did you do to my tree? Who are you?!” he yells to Chuck

Chuck, treated all adults and teachers with contempt and he was a real smart mouth as well back then. So he answers Mr Page with a...“Nothing...it's just a branch..it'll grow back...what are you worried about??”

Mr Page became incensed. This little punk just damaged his tree and told him, in a way, to stuff it.

Page could get pretty red faced when angry and he goes on...

“Grow back....? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ON MY PROPERTY!!”

Chuck, being oh-so-cool and the delinquent he was, says.

“Hey..it's a Free country...”

“A free...?” was all Mr Page said before he took after Chuck.

Now, Mr Page to us 13 year olds looked like he was about 70 and near death anyway. In reality, he was in his late 40's, gray haired and a bit obese. But in our eyes he had one foot in the grave.

I've never seen a old fat man run as fast like Mr Page did. I thought out of shape sluggards couldn't move quick. He took off after Chuck like an Olympic sprinter. So did we, we weren't going to miss this entertainment at all. Chuck., ran as fast as he could as well and nearly made it home when Mr Page managed to cuff him with his hand, unbalance him and send him crashing into the sidewalk.

Mr Page then grabs Chuck the scruff of his tee shirt and starts dragging him home. Chuck was dirtied and dripping blood from the side of face and crying now.

Chuck's Dad, came from his house after hearing all that commotion and started defending his son, right or wrong to the consternation of Mr Page. I suppose a neighbor slamming your own kid into the ground might cause you to take issue with that.

So after some yelling and “I'm gonna sue you you sonafabitch” Mr Page finally went home and Chuck's Dad was smacking him as he pulled him into the house.

There are some dull, lazy summer evenings that unexpectedly put on a nice show!