Featured Neighbor: Automo-Living Room

There is a man who lives down the street from us and every single time I drive past his house (which is twice every day at least) he is sitting in his car. The car is running, the parking lights are on and he, well, he is just chillin' in the driveway. It goes without saying that this is weird. But the intriguing part is that it doesn't matter what time of day it is.

He is there first thing in the morning often reading the newspaper. In the afternoon sometimes he naps. In the spring his sits in there with the windows down clearly enjoying the fresh air. In the winter sometimes the car will sit there running with all the snow still on it. Which begs the question which would be weirder, to scrape all the snow off so he can see out the windows or not to bother since he is isn't going anywhere anyway.

Now, I don't mean to come off as if I am stalking the guy but this is impossible to miss. And once you've noticed, even more impossible to ignore. I decided that the whole situation would somehow be less weird if I could get him to wave at me. So I tried to get him to wave. I would wave as I drove by on my way to work in the morning. Nothing! I waved as I ran by with the dog on the weekends. Na-da. I even contemplated a friendly toot-wave combo. But I've already discussed how I feel about honkers so that was clearly not an option. I thought maybe if I rolled down the window and reached my hand out to wave that would work. Maybe he couldn't see my hand inside the car. It didn't work. I saw not even the slightest movement he just stared blankly through the windshield.

Unable to make any sense of this car-sitting madness I mentioned it to Chris. " Dude, he was just sitting there drinking a cup of coffee and reading what appeared to be the most enormous hard cover book ever in his car." Chris shot me a dubious glance. "So let me get this straight" he said " he just sits in his car? All.."

"With it running!" I interjected.

"OK, OK, with it running, all day long?"

"YES" I scream while jumping up and down like Rumpelstiltskin. "Isn't this weird?"

"Yes it is weird, please stop jumping up and down like that. You look like Rumpelstiltskin or something"

"NO! I mean the guy in the car! Isn't that weird?" I asked rolling my eyes. " He won't even wave. I've been waving at him for months and it's like he can't even see me."

Chris agreed to make a point of looking the next day when he drove by. When I got home from work the next afternoon, I burst through the back door yelling "Did you see him?? He is out there right now! Did you? Did you see?"

Chris fixed me with a very serious stare. "Yes. I saw him. Oh man, that is so weird."

"I told you!" I crowed. After which we immediately sat down to discuss all the possible reasons that this guy is using his car as an alternate living room. These are the possible scenarios that we came up with:

1. His wife is really, really mean and suffers from acute motion sickness. Thus, the car is his only safe haven.
   
2. He is not a real person but, in fact, a wax figure that the people living in the house pose in different positions to freak out their neighbors. *If this is correct, I would like to meet and befriend these people. They sound awesome.
3. He can not afford to heat his home so he sits in his car with he heater running instead.
4. His front seat is the most comfortable chair he owns.
5. He is crazy.

In the end we decided that scenarios 1)mean, motion-sick wife or 2)prank wax-man were the most likely of the 5.

Featured Neighbor: The Honkers

My neighbors (no not those neighbors, the ones on the other side) like to honk their horns. I mean REALLY like to honk. These people probably have to replace the horns in their cars because they get so much use that they wear out. Seriously.

This is why I call them the honkers. Arriving home? Honk! Leaving? Honk! Throng of children blocking the driveway? Honk! Garage door opener out of batteries? Honk! The wonder that is honking has not escaped their friends either. They think that a car horn is the same as a door bell only more convenient because you don't have to get out of the car. People come over constantly. If a quick BEEP doesn't get the attention of the people inside the driver may try a longer beep or even a series of beeps. Sometimes it starts to sound like a novel translated into Morris Code out there.

Recently, a giant truck pulled into the honkers driveway and laid on the horn just as I was in the middle of walking across the room with a bowl of molten soup filled right to the brim. The honk didn't startle me enough to spill, however, it sent the dog into a barking frenzy. He sprinted across the room, barking, and crashed into my leg. Then I sloshed my soup all over the floor. And me. And the dog. I put the soup down on the table and got a napkin. So now I'm kneeling under the table wiping up the soup and they honk again. Feeling a little edgy, I jump and promptly bang my head on the underside of the table. Warp does not bark. He is too distracted because he is busy trying to lick soup off his back. Rubbing my head I get up off the floor and sit down to eat. As I am lifting the spoon to my mouth I hear "Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep". I start slightly but my will is ironclad. I inch the spoon closer. As I open my mouth they lay on the horn again only really loud this time and I jump. Again. And splash soup on my face. Feeling vaguely shell shocked and dripping soup, I decided to cut my losses and have a sandwich instead.

Featured neighbor

People say to me all the time your neighborhood sounds insane interesting! Are all your neighbors as weird as the ones next door? The answer is definitively, yes. And then it hit me. This whole town is a freakin' blog goldmine. Seriously! So effective immediately you can look forward to my "featured neighbor blogs" Each entry will describe one of my other many, many, weird neighbors who, until now, have been unknown to you. This will continue until 1) I run out of neighbors or 2) I'm run out of town. Both outcomes are equally likely. One thing is for sure. If he were still alive, Mr. Rogers would be heading for the hills!

An update is in order

I thought I would take some time off from blogging at Christmas and then a week turned into a month and a half. So here is an update on the latest & greatest:

The gondolas were a smashing success. No little children drowned while racing their tricked out Venetian gondolas down what used to be the gutters over my garage. Phew! It took until late January for me to forcibly coerce Chris to remove the rug he stapled to the ceiling. It is now back in front of the washing machine and true to his word, the holes from the nails are really tiny.

The laundry death shanty has been detached from the side of the neighbor's house. Please note I did not say taken down. I said *detached*. It has now been relocated in it's entirety along with it's contents (one dilapidated washer and dryer) onto a more mobile platform. The walls roof and wood braces are now wedged firmly inside the confines of a tiny trailer. You know, the kind with the sides that fold down? It's now a *MOBILE* death shanty. I can only imagine this thing tethered to the back of a rusted out van skipping down the highway at 70 MPH.


In other news, it is snowing here. And by snowing I mean, we are being buried alive. The snow is up to the mail box. This is our window:
We have to stand on the ledge to see out the top. You know, until the cruel mistress that is winter seals us in for good. I am reminded of that movie march of the penguins. Except where we live makes Antarctica look like something Jimmy Buffet would sing about. Over here on the left you can see our dog. The snow is taller than him so we have to shovel paths though the backyard so he can, um, go. His exact thought at the moment I snapped this photo was "Screw you. I am moving to Hawaii." And who could blame him?

Laundry death shanty

The neighbors are still at it. They have now closed off the entire front porch leaving only a tiny 2x2 foot hole near the stairs to crawl in and out of on the front of the house. At night when the porch lights are on, you can see them glowing through the 6 inch gap along the top of the "three season room". It is *almost* like a halo. A big, bright, hideous, redneck halo. From hell.

In what I can only assume to be an attempt to make their house even more marketable than it already is, Mr. Fix-it has continued construction now working on the back of the house. All last week we heard the sounds of furious sawing and hammering punctuated by shouting. When I looked outside, I observed that the washing machine was still out back and had now been joined by the dryer and what appeared to be a miniature hot water heater made from spare parts. They had been surrounded on 3 sides with plywood and a makeshift roof braced by long pieces of lumber. We call it the laundry death shanty. Why you ask? Because the first snowfall we get, that thing is going to come crashing down and crush whoever is unlucky enough to be beneath it laundering their clothes.

As we stood there looking at the Laundry Death Shanty in all it's hideousness Chris said wryly, "Gosh, I bet you they gained a whole 16 square feet from that addition."

"Yeah" I responded. "Anyone who doesn't buy that place now is nuts! "

It's a little too cold for that

It's time for another edition of what the hell are the neighbors doing now.

Two weeks ago, Chris and I were outside grilling when we saw Mr Fix-it walk down the back steps of his house and over to the washing machine sitting along side the house. We had both assumed that this washing machine was not operational, with it being OUTSIDE and all. How wrong we were. He opened the lid and reached down inside to retrieve a load of sopping wet clothes. After he staggered back up the stairs an into his house, Chris and I turned towards each other our shocked faces lit up only but the now flaming lamb chop on the grill.

"That is insane!" Chris said, "I can't believe that their washing machine is outside. It is November, it's going to freeze soon and their house will flood when the pipes burst."

"Yeah" I responded, "I can't believe thy actually wash clothes in that, I thought they just used it to sit on while they shaved each others heads this summer. I had no idea it actually worked!"

"I know! Wait, what?" Chris looked at me over the smoldering lamb chop, "They do what?"

"Oh, you've never seen them do that? They come out here and one will sit on the washing machine while the other guy shaves his head and when he is done they switch" I explained. "I guess it's a little too cold for that now."

Shaking his head, Chris silently went inside with dinner.

Fast forward to last night...

I am driving home from work when my cell phone rings. It is Chris. I answer. "Hello?"

He says:"Oh. My. God. Come home *RIGHT NOW*. Are you almost home? How much farther? When will you be here? " Before I could even stammer a response he continued, "They have covered the entire porch in plywood. Except for the very top. I assume they couldn't reach it without a ladder." His voice was now at a fever pitch. "This has to be seen to be believed. Seriously, how much longer till you get here? Hurry!"

I knew, as soon as he said they, who he was referring to. I drove home as fast as I could. It was still the longest 15 minutes of my entire life. The anticipation nearly killed me. I was not disappointed. As I drove past their house I slowed way down (read 1.2 mph). It was hideous. The entire 6x15 foot porch was enclosed with giant pieces of wood. Along the bottom the sheets of wood were just leaned up against the railings. I mean, why bother to nail it on when it will just stay up all on it's own? Its a waste of nails! Along the top of the railing there was more sheets of wood, although, none of them were tall enough to totally close off the space so there is now a 6 inch wide gap between the top of the wood and the roof all the way around. Did I mention it was hideous? I did? Oh. Well that is because it WAS hideous. And, as of 7:12 this morning, it is still hideous.

Chris and I spent the rest of the night trying to figure out what they were doing in there. I guessed that maybe it was too cold for their outdoor, tropical pet parakeet. Chris thinks they moved the washing machine in there so it wouldn't freeze. We are also pretty sure at one point there was a refrigerator out on the porch as well. So we considered the possibility that they are just moving all of their appliances out onto the porch to make space for extra roommates.

"Maybe Mr. Fix-it will make it into a three season room" I suggested. "They could saw openings in the wood and duct tape saran wrap over the holes to make windows! Nothing says buy this house like a do-it-yourself three season room."

They got a dog

Last night, while I was counting the minutes until CSI, I suddenly heard loud hysterical wailing and yelping coming from next door. Yes, that next door. Chris and I exchanged worried glances and Warp began having a doggy meltdown complete with whining, gasping and rolling around on the floor because we wouldn't let him outside to investigate.

I seriously debated whether or not to even go look. "What on earth is that noise." I shouted to Chris. He responded by glancing incredulously at me over the tops of his glasses. "You aren't the least bit curious? I'm going to check it out." I said more to myself than to him. I had to see where all the noise was coming from without appearing to be interested or concerned. My biggest problem: I couldn't see what was happening from the window. I was going to have to go out there if I wanted to find out. Doing my absolute best to appear disinterested and nonchalant, I opened the back door and stepped out onto the porch. Warp of course raced out after me and I practically had to throw myself down the back steps to catch him before he streaked past. When I looked across the yard here is what I saw:

All the neighbor children, with their friends, were jumping on the 15 foot wide trampoline. Ascending from the center of the throng of children, a teeny tiny puppy dog. This little guy couldn't have weighed more than 5 lbs. They were all jumping in unison which caused the dog to repeatedly catapult skyward. Each time, he let out a series of terrified yelps and wails.

I completely forgot about appearing disinterested and nonchalant. I stood there clutching my wiggling, screaming dog with my mouth hanging open staring at this poor puppy. Suddenly, all the children, turned and started yelling and waving at us; calling for Warp to join in the fun. Uh, no. I went back inside, leaning against the door once it was closed behind me. Chris looked over at me. "Well?"

"They got a dog" I replied.

"Oh no" He whispered.

Cook 'n Mow

Our phone books were delivered this week in those yellow sacks they hang off the mail boxes. Upon pulling into my driveway, I observed the gigantic first grader who lives next door pedaling madly across the front yard atop a hot pink bicycle that was *clearly* far to small for him. He was swinging the phone book in wide circles over his head using the handles of the plastic phone book sack. Then, he let out a battle cry so piercing that a small flock of birds in a nearby tree took flight. On the other side of the yard, directly in his path stood one of the really little kids that lives there. The grass where she was standing was approximately, up to her chin. He was headed right for her! The mother rushed outside just in time to stop the little one from becoming bicycle road kill or having to surgically remove a phone book from her head. Events like this usually serve to alert our neighbors that it is time to mow their grass.

The grass next door. To say that it is long, is, well, an understatement that doesn't really do it justice. They could lose a small child in that yard . They can not cook out because the grass is so long that it will light on fire beneath the grill. They also can not find the lawn mower in the grass. So really, it becomes a vicious cycle. This is why, when the grass becomes so long that they can no longer get their cars in and out of the yard, or they cant find the children, they have to spring into action. They host what Chris and I have come to refer to as a cook 'n mow. This consists of inviting about 20 of their closest friends over. Each friend brings something to grill and a lawn mower. They do this because 1) the people who live there can not find their own lawn mower in the jungle yard and 2) even if they could, the grass is SO long that one mower would break down from the sheer mechanical stress after one pass across the yard.

So, all their friends come over and start their mowers *simultaneously* to make sure they work. One mower is loud, 20 mowers are *VERY* loud. Fortunately, most of the mowers break after about 10 seconds so after the initial deluge of noise, there are only 1 or 2 running at a time. Priority 1: mow a path to the grill. After the grill is lit, they mow concentric circles around the 15 foot wide trampoline in the middle of the back yard. After there is a clear path to the trampoline, all the children (that they can find) are herded onto it. This includes the baby. Now that the kids are out of the way, they continue mowing concentric circles around the objects in the back yard in order of importance.

Honestly, it's pretty amazing to watch, there are guys who mow, guys who fix lawn mowers as they break and guys who just run back and forth exchanging broken lawn mowers for working ones. The remaining guests are in charge of grilling.

This brings me to the "cook" part of the cook 'n mow. I observed at this weekend's cook 'n mow, a man using what appeared to be a large metal snow shovel a sort of gigantic spatula to flip food on the grill. Why didn't he use a regular spatula you ask? Well my only guess is that it was lost in the grass.

Avian Nose Job

While I was in the driveway the other day after work, I looked up to see the gigantic first grader who lives next door out on his porch with the parakeet. This the very same child who nearly collided with my car while reading the grocery store circular just days earlier. The boy, clearly bored, was 'playing with his pet'. This consisted of wedging his nose in between the bars of the bird cage while making noises that could only be described as a frighting hybrid of a rabid owl and a run away freight train. "Woooouh Woooot Wooot Woouuuuuuhhhhhh!"

As usual, the parakeet was squeaking away but in an attempt to put some distance between himself and the weird kid the bird had crammed itself into the far corner of the cage. I stood there for no less than 10 minutes watching transfixed as the noises continued and the bird became more and more irritated. The kids face was now pressed so tightly against the cage that little bulges of skin were popping up between the bars. Perplexed I turned to head back inside. But I did not make it through the door before hearing a short series of flapping noises followed by an abrupt halt to the hooting , an indignant wail and finally a loud thud.

I guess the bird must have had enough because when I turned around, the boy was sitting in the middle of the porch with both hands clamped over his nose screaming at the top of his lungs. I can only assume that left with no other alternative, the pissed off parakeet flew across the cage and pecked the kid right on the nose to silence him.

I managed to keep from bursting out laughing until I made it inside and the door was shut behind me. Chris wondering what was so funny, listened to my story accompanied by the screams which were clearly audible inside and said "That kid has been out there for a couple hours hooting at that bird. I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner"

As we left later that night we saw the boy sitting on the front steps, looking particularly miserable, with a bandage on his nose made from a sock. The bird was eying him suspiciously and each time it moved to a new spot in the cage, the kid would shrink back gripping his bandage tightly lest he might become the unwilling recipient of a second avian nose job.

There goes the neighborhood

There's one in every neighborhood. The crazy house full of weird people doing strange things. For me, it's the next door neighbors. This demented cast of characters consists of 10 people living in the house who come and go at all hours of the night and day. There are at least 4 kids one of whom is unnaturally large for a first grader. There is a man who wears only business suits, even to mow the lawn (which he does in the dark). There is a guy who "fixes"things around the house (read bangs them with hammers and wrenches and then swears in Spanish when they fall apart). And to top it all off, a parakeet who spends all of his time outside on the porch in his cage squawking like a fiend.

Their house has been for sale for close to 2 years now and so they must have decided that they needed to step it up in the home improvement department. Last fall they "landscaped" the side of the house. This consisted of filling the 20 foot long planter box with cactus and then pouring quick setting concrete around them. It's not mulch people. Also, this is Michigan, not the desert, the cactus will die when we get one of our routine blizzards which dump a foot or two of snow on us in October. To protect the cactus, they placed miniature garbage cans upside down over each plant. This spring when the snow finally melted, the cactus were dead. I mean, bent over sideways, with the needles falling out dead. One of the little girls didn't give up though, every day she goes out there and pours a 5 gallon bucket of water on each cactus. *Water* on the *cactus*. Next Topic.

After the garden tanked, they decided to build a garage. At least I think it was supposed to be a garage. I'm not really sure because it was in the middle of the backyard. The thing was at least 15 feet tall and might have fit a small pickup truck. The structure consisted of a frame of 1x2 inch lumber stapled together. Then it was time for walls. They started with wood but the the frame wasn't as strong as you might think being held together with staples. So they switched to plastic sheeting halfway up the first wall. They had no ladder so they were only able to put the plastic up as high as they could reach on the sides so, there was no roof or sides over the 6 foot mark. They also forgot to leave one side open so that they could get in and out. Eventually, the building inspector made them take it down but they kept the pieces stacked up in the back yard so they could use them later.

Over the holiday, while looking out the window I observed them grilling, in the rain, under two of the walls they had leaned up againsted eachother teepee style. Mr. Fix-it stood there in the downpour with the lighter fluid in one fist, a gigantic spatula in the other grilling hot dogs.

I'm not really sure what they are going to do next, but personally, I'm rooting for an addition!