Bonesy's Blahg

Howdy, Neighbor!

I’m sure I’ve mentioned once or twice that I hail  from nomads. My family moved about once a year while I was growing up.   Besides the fact that I was always the socially awkward new kid, it was kind of a cool upbringing.  See,  a childhood of rentals = a constant parade of human oddities.  Almost like a never-ending county fair freak show or Ripley’s Believe It Or Not!

We just had a LOT of downright strange neighbors!

There was Marsha, the female Elephant Man.  Okay, truth be told, she was actually just a really big woman covered in moles.  But she had a super-cool live-in boyfriend who liked to invite me into the basement when she wasn’t home!

Wait, maybe that wasn’t such a good thing.

But he did let me play with his…

Vial of mercury.

What were you thinking? 

Come to think of it, mercury poisoning kind of explains a lot about that guy.

My favorite move brought us right next door to Grace & Bob.  They seemed like a harmless old couple…at first.  Turns out, they were a horrifying train wreck of a couple that you couldn’t help but to watch all wide-eyed, but from a safe distance.

Or, as safe a distance as you could find from next door while still watching.

Bob was kind of slow & mostly suicidal, and would occasionally lock himself in the shed & catch it on fire.

But Grace?  Hoo boy!  She was full on crazycakes.   Like use-the-cuff-of-your-jeans-for-an-ashtray CRAZYCAKES!

So, we totally used that to our advantage.

Once, when my sister & I found a dead mouse, we had Grace come over to “take care” of it for us.  (Don’t judge.  We don’t like critters!)  Grace came in, picked the little bastard up by the tail, sniffed it a few times… Then said “Mmm.. Lunch!” as she walked out the front door.

We didn’t have the balls heart to ask if she really did make lunch.

But, my friend Kelly & I did make her breakfast once!  We put some eggs in her mailbox one Saturday night on the hottest week of that summer.  We sat at my bedroom window, waiting for her to check the mail on Monday, but I don’t remember actually seeing it.  I do know she blamed the girls who lived a couple of streets away, though.   She couldn’t get the stench out, so wanted them to buy her a new mailbox.

Can I get arrested for a federal offense 25 years after the fact?  What is the statute of limitations on tampering with someone’s mailbox, anyway?

Then, when I was about 15, we moved into a ramshackle rental in a bad section of town.  Not long after we pulled up in the U-Haul, a few of our new neighbors came over and offered to help.  They were two good-looking couples, clean-cut & uber-friendly.

Also, they were cult members.

Even after my mom found out they were cult members, she still sent me to run errands with them.   You know, totally normal errands, like going door-to-door handing out tracts.  Scouring the real estate section for recent closings so we could “help” new neighbors in OTHER neighborhoods.  Inviting people to “meetings” where they could experience something called “new birth.”

I was good with it for a while.  I mean, what do I care if people get brainwashed?  They were nice to me, paid me in Pepsi, & bought me a few new outfits for our cross-town missions.

I drew the line when they invited me to go out of town with them for “training.”   I mean, brainwashing is fine for OTHER people, but for me?  I think I’ll pass.

I thought I had left all of that behind when I got married.

Then all hell broke loose.

No, really.  I’m pretty sure that hell actually broke open & unleashed the devil’s spawn to my neighborhood, in the form of a little boy named Johnny.

To be fair, Johnny clearly wasn’t “right.”  I don’t judge for that.  What I DO judge him for are the actions that took place over the several years we lived there.  Peeping.  Theft.  Flat tires. Dented cars.  Exposure. Urinating on my house.  Threats of physical violence.  Did I mention he was armed?  Grandpa thought he was old enough for a pocket knife when he turned 12.  Yeah, all of that happened BEFORE HE TURNED 12!

What’s a NORMAL family to do when the psychotic neighbor boy now carries a blade?

Move.

And now?  Now we live in a nice, quiet neighborhood, right next to a man who drives the Scooby Mobile.  A 50-year-old man in a PT Cruiser, with “Scooby” decal-ed across the back window… and a giant stuffed Scooby Doo in the passenger seat.

Or we DID live next to him.  He was taken to jail a couple of weeks ago, after drunkenly crashing his car twice in one day, shooting up the tree in his front yard,  then holding the still-loaded gun to his wife’s head.

*Sigh*

Maybe it’s time to move on.

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August 14, 2016 Posted by | Family, Friends, Kids, People | 2 Comments

   

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