Neighbors and other disappointments
Sunday, July 19, 2009 at 05:00PM 
When it comes to neighbors, I admit I am a bit of a romantic. I wistfully dream of Mayberry's Aunt Bee bringing me a basket filled with home-made fried chicken and a freshly-baked peach pie. (To heck with clogged arteries, I say).
Or Home Improvement's Wilson Wilson, Jr. dispensing avuncular advice behind the fence leaving me, and yes, the entire world better for the experience.
Or at the very least, Dudley Moore's neighbor in the movie 10. A shameless hedonist who always threw lavish parties with beautiful women cavorting sans clothing.
Well, these days my neighbors don't cavort. In fact, my neighbors don't score very high on the uber friendliness scale. They are a usually a cross between Ted and Al Bundy. Seriously. What follows is sadly 100% true. When my wife and I moved into a condo in Richmond, Virginia, there was a gentle knock at the door. A kindly older woman, wearing a flowered apron, brought us a casserole as welcome gift.
It didn't matter that I hadn't eaten a casserole since the early '70s, I finally found the faux Aunt Bee I was searching for my entire life. Well, we put the casserole aside and I went out to my car to get utensils, the neighbor on the other side us said, "Welcome to the neighborhood. And by the way, if "Jane" your other neighbor gives you any food, don't eat it. She poisoned her husband with a casserole."
We'd get her casseroles from time to time and she'd ask, "did you like them?" My standard reply was, "Oh, yes, apparently angels can cook. Thank you -- you're such a dear. "A year later, they carted her off to an asylum.
I actually never saw my neighbor in Los Angeles. We had a large fence and massive tree to protect us. But word on the street was that he was ex-military and a surly brute of a man. I made sure to keep my Richard Simmond's workout tapes on mute. Well, fast forward to jury duty. A friend and I were both called to help dispense the justice department mete out freedom or punishment.
Later, when our mutual cases were over, he told me that his case involved a man who shot a dog for barking too loud. "Kind of weird ex-military guy, lives on *****. Of course, it was my neighbor, the gun-toting felon. He was hauled off to the local pokey.
The strangest of all neighbors lived across the hall from me in an apartment in New Jersey. He seemed like a regular guy who aparently survived without doing any manual labor of any kind. One evening, he knocked on my door and I opened it to find that his teeth weren't his own -- he had a kind of Moms Mabley kind of vibe.
He wasn't just three sheets to the wind, he was an entire bedding set to the wind -- including the matching dust ruffle. He says, "I like to sleep New York style." I wanted to say "do you mean Albany or Manhattan? But I had the feeling that he was thinking Fire Island. Fortunately, I had a deadbolt the size of the Empire State Building.
Recently, I lived in Texas and had a wonderful neighbor. The problem was her dachshund "Duke." He was the Eddie Haskel of dogs. When he was with my neighbor he was your best buddy. But when her back was turned, he became what is known in the trade as SOS, "Son of Satan." He had the remarkable ability to thrust his entire top row of teeth out a few feet from his body. It was like a hot dog with badly-fitting false teeth. Needless to say, I left Texas immediately.
Well, now I live in a Victorian mansion so large, I am too busy finding my way around to ever consort with the neighbors. Ah, life is good.
Reader Comments (1)
I thought that a neighbor from another state might get in contact with you and provide a not so obvious Aunt Bee type meal... maybe more like an Aunt Pearl type apple pie (peaches are toxic) made by the not so Pearl like cousin Steve. This male would only inspire you to move to Maine and cook see food (yes of course it is edible). However, it might be the most frightening thing in Maine but heck... a lobster goes with it! Join us sometime Mr. Baker... ? I guess I best bee going... J