A Wall of Grapes
We live next door to an honest to goodness lunatic. This guy is the type of guy who created the howling at the moon stereotype. Just after the lunatic moved in we realized we had a problem; We couldn't go into the back yard for fear of being accosted by said lunatic. The partial solution: A Wall of Grapes.
Can't see the crazy neighbor can you ?
Now sometimes at four in the morning when he is out on his front porch screaming at the top of his lungs, about how the local women don't hold a candle to the fine folk of Georgia, we feel it necessary to call the police. When they pull up and shine the light on em, one might here something like, "Bout time Y'all showed up. I called two weeks ago."
Sometimes the lunatic sits out in his car and blasts music. He doesn't actually go anywhere. Just run the engine and listen to tunes. Over the years the music has changed. Usually he sticks with the same thing for months on end then out of the blue it's a new artist and new songs. I've been absent from the house for many years and still I've manage to catch Frank Sinatra, the Rolling Stones, The Alman Brothers Band and Patsy Cline. We all had to laugh when we realized he was playing "Crazy" as sung by Patsy Cline. We don't think he feels the Irony.
Within the past couple years the lunatic has acquired dogs, three of them. He has rigged up a kennel run of sorts in his yard just the other side of the above Wall of Grapes. It's made of Cyclone fencing material without proper posts and cement anchors. It is held, or rather propped, in place by loose boards and pieces of plywood. It's about four feet high and the dogs have absolutely no problem escaping and can often be found sniffing at things in the alley or leaving land mines in our yard. Not that we really mind the dogs the keep the lunatic busy. He has less time for screaming and singing jags.
We feel that someday we will be on the news doing a short clip about how we always thought the dogs would end up eating him. We might go on about how it was just cruel to give those fine beasts to such an obvious crazy man a what a terriblr tragidy it is that they might have to be put down. Until that day we will have grapes in the summertime and the bitter Chicago cold during the winter to keep the lunatic at bay.
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Can't see the crazy neighbor can you ?
Now sometimes at four in the morning when he is out on his front porch screaming at the top of his lungs, about how the local women don't hold a candle to the fine folk of Georgia, we feel it necessary to call the police. When they pull up and shine the light on em, one might here something like, "Bout time Y'all showed up. I called two weeks ago."
Sometimes the lunatic sits out in his car and blasts music. He doesn't actually go anywhere. Just run the engine and listen to tunes. Over the years the music has changed. Usually he sticks with the same thing for months on end then out of the blue it's a new artist and new songs. I've been absent from the house for many years and still I've manage to catch Frank Sinatra, the Rolling Stones, The Alman Brothers Band and Patsy Cline. We all had to laugh when we realized he was playing "Crazy" as sung by Patsy Cline. We don't think he feels the Irony.
Within the past couple years the lunatic has acquired dogs, three of them. He has rigged up a kennel run of sorts in his yard just the other side of the above Wall of Grapes. It's made of Cyclone fencing material without proper posts and cement anchors. It is held, or rather propped, in place by loose boards and pieces of plywood. It's about four feet high and the dogs have absolutely no problem escaping and can often be found sniffing at things in the alley or leaving land mines in our yard. Not that we really mind the dogs the keep the lunatic busy. He has less time for screaming and singing jags.
We feel that someday we will be on the news doing a short clip about how we always thought the dogs would end up eating him. We might go on about how it was just cruel to give those fine beasts to such an obvious crazy man a what a terriblr tragidy it is that they might have to be put down. Until that day we will have grapes in the summertime and the bitter Chicago cold during the winter to keep the lunatic at bay.
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posted by Rich Rosenthal II at 12:09 AM
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