Billy, A.K.A. Crazy Cat Dude

Well, we didn't think that there was anybody else quite like KC, A.K.A. crazy cat lady. Boy, were we ever wrong. Meet her counterpart, Billy, A.K.A. crazy cat dude. He reminds me of someone carrying protester signs back in the 60's, for whatever the cause, and then proceeding to incite riots.

I had to drop off a feral cat at the local Animal Control, as we had been having a serious problem in our neighborhood. While I was waiting my turn, Billy leaps through the door stating that he is there for a cat pickup for Dr. Smith. As he speaks, the kennel he was carrying is slammed to the floor. He began ranting and raving about having to come out to a place he considered worse than hell. He also said that people involved with Animal Control and anybody else who dropped off cats were worse than child molesters and pedophiles and should rot in the deepest, darkest pits of hell. The people who were present were shocked at this disgusting display of verbal abuse. I don't think I have ever seen someone so passionate and, at the same time, so vicious about their cause. Well, I let him spew his venom, thinking eventually he would be done with his paperwork and then be gone. But no, he had to get personal and was unable to zip his lip. He then proceeded to rant and rave some more saying that if I was the lady that brought in the cat, he hoped I heard what he had said before because it would certainly apply to me. Well, being the lady I am, I don't want to repeat what I said to him, but he was stunned that someone had the nerve to speak up to him and hold their ground. I told him he was way out of line and he backed off a little, but then he started up again before finally leaving the premises. They say hindsight is 20/20 and if I had it to do over again, I would have called the county sheriff and reported him for harassment and threatening behavior and let them handle this radical protestor.

At one point I wondered if KC and this guy might be acquainted and, if not, they might make a good match. Then, I reconsidered. I wouldn't wish someone like him on anyone in spite of all the ill will and dissention that she has created toward others in the neighborhood. In closing, there was something else about that day. I can’t exactly explain it, but I felt a calmness after it was all over. Could there have been an angel on my shoulder? I think so.

The Adventures of Emma and Jody

My friend Emma, A.K.A. "M" and me have certainly had our moments of fun and laughter and everything in between. We have traveled down many avenues in our little town, but even the simple life has its share of ups and downs. If one of us is feeling down, it doesn't last for long, because just around the corner there is another adventure about to unfold. Let me take a moment to share some of our treasures with you.

Yard Sales - If there is one thing M and I love to do, it is going to yard sales. One of our favorites is the annual sale at the local civic center. On one such visit, we began browsing down the aisles and each of us had collected an armload of goodies. I saw a huge oriental fan displayed on one of the tables. I thought to myself that if someone had Asian decor in their home, it would be a nice piece to have. After I touched the fan it fell down and I put it back in its place. M said, "The fan fell down behind the table again, Jody." I went back to the table several times and every time I left, it would fall down again. I think it was jinxed.

We came to a table that had the most adorable kitty figurines and we both remarked that KC, A.K.A crazy cat lady would just love them. No sooner had the words come out of our mouths than, as if by magic, KC appeared in the doorway and headed straight for the feline display. I don't remember who giggled first, but it was contagious. Then, M said, "Look Jody, the pope is watching us." I'm thinking to myself, the pope is here? M said to look up on the wall and, sure enough, there was a portrait of Pope Benedict all adorned in white. It seemed that wherever we went, the pope's eyes were following us. For some reason this made us feel guilty. I guess he thought we were being irreverent. By this time we were laughing hysterically and one of the yard sale attendants gave us a dirty look. I could tell she was a humorless old soul.

Then, there was the matter of the cradle. I looked across the room and saw a super-sized cradle with a stand. It was just what I needed for my old baby dolls and stuffed animals. I hurried and grabbed the cradle before anyone else could get to it. I didn't want to call Mr. Man, my husband, for help transporting it. M said since we were within walking distance of my house that she would help me carry it. She took one end of the frame that the cradle was hooked to and I took the other end. As we began to walk, the cradle started swinging higher and higher and we decided that we needed to stop and unhook it from the frame. During this process the cradle hit the ground and the giggles started again. M made a comment that it must be a "blonde" thing. M wanted to carry the cradle, but I told her it was too heavy and that I should carry it since she was helping me out. We finally came to an agreement and I convinced her to carry the frame instead. All this, because I was too stubborn to ask Mr. Man for help.

There were also some plants and flowers for sale and, of course, we like our gardens to look pretty. However, we are such bargain hunters that we decided we should wait and come back closer to the end of the sale. Everyone is tired and just wants to get rid of the left overs. We came back with my little red wagon and everything we wanted was half price. I guess you could say we are a little cheap or you could say we know how to get the most bang for the buck!

Exercise - M is an avid bicyclist and walker and, in the past, I have tried to share in these activities with her. I kind of think of her as a female Lance Armstrong. My idea is to perform these exercises for my enjoyment as well as the physical benefits. I like to take my time, stop and chat along the way, etc. M is a little more driven than me and on more than one occasion, when we have been together, she has disappeared on her bicycle. When I can't find her I just end up going home. However, one early summer morning I was on my bicycle and she was on foot. We had devised a plan to try to catch someone who she thought was following her. We started down the sidewalk with me on my bike, a little ahead of her. I had my cell phone in my pocket. She had her camera with her and we proceeded with the plan. If the person showed up she would take a picture of the perpetrator and I was to call the P.D. As it turned out the person was a no show. We figured they must have had a bad "vibe" that day. No doubt, it was because M and Jody were on the case!

Kitchen Duty - M and I share recipe secrets and swap leftovers and we both love to bake for family and friends. Her bread is the best and everyone around here is delighted if she has an extra loaf to share. One Christmas we decided to get together in my kitchen. We baked an assortment of cookies and made candy. The only problem was that after we had created our masterpieces, it was time to celebrate. Each and every treat had to be sampled and topped off with a tall glass of milk. Our willpower took a vacation and I don’t know why we thought we could get away with it!

Rainy Sunday

I used to have a decorative "Holly Hobby" plate that hung on the wall in my kitchen. It had a quote on it that said, "Count the Sunny Hours and Forget the Rainy Days." I dropped it on the floor one day and, of course, it broke in a million pieces. For some reason I never forgot that phrase and almost every time it rains, I think of it.

One such "rainy day" occurred in early spring on a Sunday morning. We had just finished breakfast and I was cleaning up the kitchen. I happened to look out the window and saw Helga running up the ramp of her deck with her cane. She hurriedly went inside her house. This seemed a little odd to me, because Helga is partially disabled and not able to move that fast. A few minutes later she came back outside and rushed down her ramp as if in some kind of distress. My husband, Mr. Man, and I decided it might be a good idea for him to walk over and see if everything was OK.

The rain was still coming down. By the time Mr. Man got across the street, he saw Helga at KC's gate trying to rescue Ebony the dog. She had been concerned for some time that the animal was being neglected. The dog had been whining and its broken tie out was caught on something. Ebony couldn't get untangled and the doghouse was tipped over on its side. The dog finally broke loose and Helga was actually trying to lift her over the fence, which was an impossible feat. She told Mr. Man that she had already called the P.D. Sure enough, the police cruiser rolled up and he was thinking to himself, "What have I gotten myself into." As Helga's emotions began to get the best of her, Mr. Man took over and was able to fill the officer in on some of the neighborhood issues with KC, the dog's owner. (Remember her? She's also cat hoarder of the century.) The officer offered some suggestions for Helga, but there was nothing they could do at that point, because the animal seemed to be OK. Mr. Man convinced Helga to go with him and got her back to her house. It is interesting to note that KC did not, at any time, come outside to see what was going on and this ole gal doesn't miss a trick!

Just when we were thinking that the rest of the day would be kind of dreary and uneventful, I got a call from M. She had seen Smitty banging on Fancy Nancy's door. He was having an anxiety attack because his vehicle was missing. Nancy finally answered the door and he told her that Jay, his low-life roommate, had taken off in his car the night before and had not returned. He wanted to know if Tommy Boy, Nancy's boy friend, might know where to find Jay. Nancy and Smitty then jumped into her old clunker and rushed off to see if they could find him. Having no luck, they returned to Nancy's house and Smitty ended up walking back home in the rain. Then, some of Jay's friends showed up at his place and told him that Jay had been arrested for driving on a suspended license and Smitty's car had been impounded. Well, he was in a panic because he didn't have any money for the fee to get the car out of impound. Lucky for Smitty, his brother came to the rescue and his car is now back home. There seems to be such on-going drama in Smitty's life. It's not that he goes looking for trouble, but it sure seems to find him no matter where he roams. He just can't stay away from the elements that make up, as Helga puts it, "the underworld."

So, the next time it’s raining outside, I’m sure that old phrase will pop into my head, “Count the Sunny Hours and Forget the Rainy Days.” However, after all that ensued on a particular Sunday in early spring, it will remind me of one “rainy day” I won’t soon forget!

The Beekeepers

Our neighbor, Willie, had a beehive in his backyard, which he was very proud of. Sometimes his bees would wander off for awhile and find a place they liked better. He seemed a little sad when the bees would disappear and often said, "I sure hope they come back."

Joe Cool, also, had an interest in bees and was trying to maintain a hive of his own. One day he happened to notice a swarm of bees hovering around our little mother-in-law house in the backyard. There was an opening where an old stove pipe had once been located and they were flying in and out of the hole. The bees had made their home inside the wall. He approached Mr. Man, my husband, and told him that he knew how to take control of this situation and brought his small ladder over to the little house. As he climbed the ladder, he said, "You take this mirror, see, and hold it above the hole and you will see the hive." Sure enough, Mr. Man looked at the reflection and saw a lot of buzzing going on inside. Curiosity got the best of Willie and he came over to take it all in. After all, this could be his hive.

Joe Cool had a home-made contraption that he had come up with called a "smoker." He had put a piece of green turf inside a can and then lit it which produced a stream of smoke. Mr. Man and Willie, knowing better, stood way back as they observed the process and watched the "master at work." The bees seemed to get a little agitated and Joe Cool began to flinch and jump, as he got zapped a few times. He said, "Well, this ain't workin." He came down the ladder and said he had something else he wanted to try, but that would be for another day.

One evening, Joe Cool decided to give it another go and returned to the beehive with an old canister-type vacuum cleaner. His plan was to suck the bees out of the hole. Once again he climbed the ladder as Mr. Man stood by being somewhat amused at this latest maneuver. Joe Cool's body began to jerk and he stiffened up a bit. He had agitated those bees once more and they were ticked off to say the least. After he got zapped a few times, he came back down the ladder and said he couldn't get the hose in far enough. He told Mr. Man, "I ain't goin’ up there no more. I'm done with it." Mr. Man decided the best thing to do was to close off the hole. Joe Cool’s ladder remained outside the little house for some time. I guess the whole thing had left a bad taste in his mouth. Mr. Man finally picked up the ladder and lifted it back over to his side of the fence. After that, the beehives seemed to disappear from the places they had once called home. I guess those little critters were trying to tell everybody to "buzz off!"

Joe Cool

One fine spring morning, my husband, A.K.A. Mr. Man, was stirring around in the yard trying to find things to do. He had broken a bone in his hand and had been off work for a couple of months, which was driving him crazy. He glanced up and happened to notice Joe Cool ambling across the street to Helga's house. It looked like he was going to do some serious tree trimming, because he had drug over his ladder and a chain saw. Helga had come out on her porch to watch or should I say "supervise."

As Mr. Man continued with his yard work, he couldn't help but notice what was going on across the street. Joe Cool had set his ladder up against Helga's oak tree and with chain saw in hand, he proceeded to trudge up the ladder. Something didn't seem quite right to my husband about this plan. For one thing, Joe Cool was a heavy weight and the ladder didn't look sturdy enough to hold him up. He was also leaning out with the chain saw to cut off the tree limbs. My husband was thinking to himself, "This looks like a disaster getting ready to happen." All of a sudden, there was a "snap" and down came Joe Cool, the ladder, chain saw, and tree limbs with a loud thud! Helga let out a blood curdling scream that would have woke the dead and she kept yelling, "Someone call 911," while she was holding her cordless phone and, bless her heart, wet her pants! Mr. Man began running and with his good hand, he grabbed the top of our chain link fence and hopped over to the other side. By the time he got inside Helga's gate, all you could see were the tree limbs covering Joe Cool's body and to my husband's horror, the chain saw was still running! As he was clearing away the limbs, he noticed the chain saw was still in Joe Cool's hand and he was able to shut it off.

Having the wind knocked out of him and looking confused and dazed, it was a wonder that this poor soul was not seriously injured. He was more embarrassed than anything else and kept saying that he was okay. Helga insisted that she call the paramedics, but he told her "absolutely not." He sat on her porch for a while to catch his breath and then slowly made his way back to his house across the street.

When I got home from work that evening and asked Mr. Man about his day, he had quite the story to tell. He felt Joe Cool had hurt himself more than he had let on and would be more than a little sore the next day. I asked him how he hopped our fence with a broken hand and he said he didn't really know, but he had had enough excitement for one day!

Big Jake

Jake is a guy who has certainly had his share of life's ups and downs. He often brings unfortunate circumstances on himself, as he is very outspoken and compelled to say what is on his mind. Seems like this gets him into a lot of hot water. I guess you could say he is not everyone's "cup of tea."

Jake and his buddies like to party hardy on "big game days" and holidays. The neighbors have seen them fire up the old grill and knock back a few cold ones from time to time. His neighbor, KC, A.K.A. crazy cat lady, becomes unnerved on these occasions. You see, Jake has always been an object of scorn as far as she is concerned. She blames him for everything that goes wrong in her neighborhood whether he is guilty or not and he seems to delight in anything that would remotely tick her off.

An especially favorite time of year for Jake and his gang is July 4th. One year they decided to put on a fireworks display which was truly awesome. There was a lot of hoopin' and hollerin' going on and none of them were feeling much pain. Crouched behind Joe Cool's bushes was none other than KC, herself, nervously observing the festivities as they began to unfold. All you could hear was the popping, crackling and whistling of the fireworks. I guess it was just more than KC could handle and she began to pace up and down the smoke-filled street. You see, she was afraid the hoard of cats in her house were going to go into "cardiac arrest." KC considered calling the P.D., but she knew what they would say, "After all, it is a holiday and people are just having a little fun!" To make matters worse, KC had an 85-year-old antique rose bush that she cherished. A spark fell from the sky and with a "swoosh" landed atop the prized rose bush. Needless to say, it became engulfed in flames and was burnt to a crisp. This was especially tragic for KC, as she said the treasured heirloom always bloomed on her birthday in December. Jake will never be forgiven for his role in this scenario.

KC had been on the verge of calling the fire department that fateful night, but she was able to put out the fire with the water hose. After all the drama that had ensued, she stomped off in a huff, glaring at Jake the whole way back to her house. As for Jake and his crowd, there was no way they could blame this one on the Mexicans!

Big Stan, A.K.A. The Code Man

Stan,Stan he's our man. If he can't do it nobody can!!! Stan drives a big white Ford with "CODE ENFORCEMENT" stamped across the back in huge letters. He is a man of SIZE and his car looks like it has been built around him. Stan drives around town looking for people who have broken the rules,or rather some of the people. He is often seen with pen and pad in hand writing notes and leaving them on the door knobs of unsuspecting rule breakers. Seems like the greatest offenders are not cited and others get picked on for minor infractions. In some areas of town the infractions are so huge Stan is apparently blinded by the sheer magnitude of the situation. These are the residences that look like old garbage dumps with trash, debris and junk strung out all over the place. Some yards have rusted out junkards up on cinder blocks with old car parts strung everywhere. I see old homes where unmowed grass and vines have overtaken the residence. Critters of all types are hiding in the tall grass and making it their home. Nothing seems to change unless someone relentlessly complains or goes beyond the chain of command.

In contrast you have the case of two little old ladies who were having a garage sale on a Saturday. They got blasted by Stan for the little sign they had posted in the front yard. Apparently this is a code violation. Also, one of the churches was having their annual community yard sale with the proceeds of the sale being distributed among the underprivileged. During the sale, with a crowd of onlookers, he told the church workers their garage sale signs had to be removed.

I have a neighbor whose place is neatly landscaped and he keeps his yard well maintained. He happened to have an old aquarium which was used for draining the water out of his boat. The aquarium was located on the ground behind the boat and not in plain view from the street, but he got cited for that. I think you get the picture. So when THE ENFORCER comes moseying down your street, be on the alert;you could be next!

How BIZARRE!

***Warning: Not for the faint of heart!***

As I said in my cast of characters, KC is a cat hoarder. Not only does she have 50+ cats in her house, she feeds every stray cat that comes around. She is crazy about cats. And I don't use the word "crazy" lightly. I've known her for about nine years and I swear it's time the song "they're coming to take me away" happens to her.

Can you just imagine what it's like in that den of filth KC calls home? The one time Helga went in the house she said there were feces, urine and vomit all over the place. It made her sick just walking in the door. I'm sure she was not exaggerating when she said she would NOT go back into that house without a hazmet suit on. I wouldn't go in that house with a suit on!

KC’s cats are very well fed and holidays are quite the feast at her house. At least it is for the cats. She buys a big turkey and cooks it for them and they all sit down and eat it together. She told Helga that sometimes when she’s eating, the cats jump up and grab the food as she puts it in her mouth. She gently chastises them for their lack of table manners. Note to self: Don't ever eat food cooked by somebody I don't know whose house I haven't been in.

KC communicates with her cats. She saw a stray kitten hanging around M’s house and told M the kitten had been talking with her. One of her cats is her “guard dog” and gets between her and anyone that she talks with. According to her, he “knows people.” When she goes outside and claps her hands, cats magically appear. I swear she is the Pied Piper of the feline community.

KC used to hire Joe Cool to build her a coffin every time one of her cats passed away. Certain specifications had to be met before her cats could be laid to rest. The coffin couldn't just be a wooden box. No sirree! It had to be a wooden box lined with silk material, long enough that the cat's body would have plenty of room to stretch out. Can't have a cramped dead cat, can we??? Then the deceased cat was buried in her back yard.

The cats rested in peace until one day she found out... she could have the cats cremated when they died. She began frantically digging up the remains so she could have the ones already buried hauled to the pet crematorium. There happened to be one little problem, she couldn't find one of the coffins. She’s been distressed over this and plans to hire someone with a metal detector. She’s hoping the detector will pick up the nails in the coffin and she can find the missing cat.

When one of KC's cats die, she goes through a ritual that makes me cringe when I think about it. Out of respect, she keeps the dead cat in her house for 24 hours before she sends it to be cremated. Once it's cremated it's tiny little urn is placed on the mantle with the others.

KC made arrangements with the funeral director to have the little urns buried with her when she departs this earth. Then she came up with what she thought would be a divine plan and presented it to Helga. She suggested Helga and her dog be cremated so they could all be stored together. Helga had a hard time containing her laughter on that one.

Regarding, KC, A.K.A., Crazy Cat Lady

KC has a fondness for roaming the streets at night and sleeping during the day. She is known in our neighborhood as a "pistol-packin" mama. I hear she has quite the "collection." The P.D. is aware of this fact, but I get the impression that they do not take her too seriously. Considering some of the other "shenanigans" that go on around here, should we be surprised?

There was a time, not so long ago, when KC was known to have confronted her long-time neighbor, Mary's boyfriend. It was late evening and dark shadows were cascading across the lawn. After a romantic little rondevous, this handsome Latino male was making an exit down the steps of his girlfriend's small apartment. Like one of her cats sneaking up on a tiny lizard, KC came creeping out from behind the azalea bushes. With pistol in hand and pointing his way, she said, "Hey, buddy, I've never seen you before and you don't look like you belong here." Immediately, his hands reached for the sky and he began nervously responding to her relentless interrogation.

After a few minutes, Mary realized that she hadn’t heard Jasper’s car start. She went outside to see what was going on and was horrified at the scene in front of her. After convincing KC that Jasper was a friend of hers, KC put the gun away and Jasper fled to his fancy red sports car and roared off in a cloud of smoke. To this day, no one has seen hide nor hair of this young man.

Another incident regarding KC was the time (again, it was in the dark of night) when she confronted a homeless vagrant. There was an old dump of a house that had been delivered via a giant house-moving trailer to an empty lot across the street. The house sat there forever and a day, with nothing done to it, looking very ugly and empty. I guess it looked like a pretty good deal to the homeless man, a way for him to get some protection from the elements.

Well, KC had other notions and with pistol in tow, she yelled at the man and asked him what his intentions were. I guess he was more than a little frightened when he saw a screeching woman with a shock of white hair headed toward him with a gun. This must have sent him over the edge because he high tailed it out of there so fast, it was like he had become a "super hero" with accelerated speed injected into his feet.

I do not speak with KC on a regular basis because she is a such a "hard nut to crack", but I did inquire about this particular incident. I asked her if she wasn't just a little bit concerned that a character such as this homeless guy might have a weapon himself, such as a knife. She let me know real quick (as only KC can) that she did not intimidate that easily and that no one was going to get the jump on her! What came to my mind at this point was a quote from the famous Ace Ventura, “Well, alrighty then!”

I’m sure that KC’s sweet Daddy is looking down with pride at his baby girl as she patrols the streets at night, packin’ some heat. I would like to say that I sleep much better knowing she’s got it all under control. Or at least she thinks she does. You see, she is a "legend in her own mind."

Tommy Boy's Grounded

Desperate for a job, Tommy Boy has become a wheeler and dealer in dumpster goods. This has secured his living quarters for the past couple of years. After studying the habits of four different grocery stores, he knows when they throw out their produce, meat, floral, bakery, dairy products, frozen goods and anything else a grocery store throws away. He’s “Johnny on the Spot” using Nancy’s car to haul the “goods” home the minute they hit the dumpster.

To accommodate all the food Tommy Boy brings home, Nancy has a freezer and a refrigerator in her living room, a refrigerator in the garage and one in her kitchen. The food was pouring in and the system was working, keeping Nancy and other family members well stocked until... Tommy Boy apparently started needing drug money. He slowed way down on the amount of goods he was bringing home. Nancy is sure that he’s selling his loot to the less fortunate and keeping the money for himself. Using Nancy’s vehicle and gas for his little side jobs doesn’t fare well with her.

To show Tommy Boy who is in control, Nancy has grounded him. Since he has spare keys to her car and her truck, she parked the truck at someone's house and left the car at a repair shop. She said she had to go and BUY another clunker just to keep him from having transportation. She even sleeps with the keys so he can’t sneak and duplicate them, like he did the other keys. She told M that, "The cops want his butt real bad and I'll do anything to further their cause."

In her frustration, Nancy’s been seeking advice from another ex-con, Mr. Burb. He and Tommy Boy seem to have some past associations. Mr. Burb warned her to keep an eye on Tommy Boy. M told Nancy that the warning is like “the pot calling the kettle black!” Nancy replied, “You know you have to be careful when the likes of someone like Mr. Burb tells you to be watching out for someone like Tommy Boy.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out!

Tommy Boy's History

Tommy Boy went to high school with Nancy’s son and after several years their paths crossed again. Seems this knight in shining armor showed up at her house one day riding his bike. A romance ensued and on more than one occasion, M and her husband saw them making out in the carport. That’s when M’s hubby came up with the nickname “Trick Pony” for Tommy Boy. M asked the BURNING question, “Why, oh why did they have to make out in the carport???” If you’ve got a house and nobody’s in it, what’s the point? After a whirlwind romance, Tommy Boy moved in.

The romance would have continued except for one little problem, Tommy Boy’s roving hands. They took him in other directions. One day while pedaling his bike, he came upon an unattended vehicle that had a purse in it. Unable to resist the temptation, he snagged the purse and fled on his bike. While the police were trying to pin the crime on him, he was caught hiding a wallet he had stolen in the produce section at Wal-Mart. It turned out that he had been going to different stores, taking wallets out of purses, stealing the money and throwing the wallets wherever.

Long story short, Tommy Boy ended up serving time in the slammer for about three years. Nancy sent him letters everyday and even read part of one of his letters to M. M said this was a little too much info for her. Upon his release, Tommy moved back in with Nancy. After a few failed attempts at employment, he became self employed, so to speak. One of his little business ventures involved selling a bottle of prescription drugs to Thelma. Only she thought they were drugs. She was duped by the con. He had sold her vitamins. Thelma was flaming mad and there was nothing she could do about it. How could she call the cops and report that the illegal drugs she purchased were vitamins?

Just recently Thelma’s house was burglarized and it seemed the burglar knew exactly where everything of any value was located. She is pretty sure that Tommy Boy was the cat burglar, but there were no finger prints and not enough evidence to prove it. Maybe this was another little business venture of his?

Nancy told M that two weeks ago, someone stole one of her credit cards out of her house. Wonder who could have done such a thing? There were over $200 worth of charges in one day on the card. She was going to notify the cops, but she just hasn’t had the time. Could this be denial? Nancy has resorted to keeping her purse locked in the trunk of the only car Tommy Boy doesn’t have keys to.

Smitty

While shopping at the local discount store this morning, I heard a voice behind me say, "Well, good morning young lady?"  I was almost afraid to turn around. If you knew my age, you would understand the craziness of the comment.Standing behind me was none other than Smitty himself, smiling as he always does. (I told M that he reminds me of a cheshire cat.  She describes him as the cat that swallowed the canary.  Either way, you get the picture.)   I asked "the cat" what he had been up to since nobody's seen him in a month of Sundays. He has been working for the Council on Aging delivering meals to shut-ins. I asked Helga about this and he hasn’t been to her house making any deliveries. It is a relief for her that she’s not on his route.

Smitty also told me that he’s got other odd jobs, but none pay very much. It makes him feel good, though, to bring some sunshine into the lives of the elderly folks. He kids with them, prays with them and even played Santa Claus at Christmas for them. Or rather some of them. One lady who is somewhat younger than the other women told him there was no way she was going to sit on his lap. His response was that everyone has to sit on Santa's lap and she flat out told him, “No way, you're just too young!!!” I’m thinking he got the Santa Claus job because he was the only one who didn’t need padding for the suit, he's still young enough to bounce someone on his knee and he smiles a lot. Eeewww....

I was still reeling from the stuff he had already told me and it only got more interesting from there. He was running his mouth a mile a minute, and smiling as he led into a conversation about a delivery to one of the elderly ladies on his route. The conversation was about him giving some little old lady a neck and shoulder massage and how much she enjoyed it. No one had done anything like that since “she couldn’t remember when.” Bet not!

Helga has known Smitty for 20 years or more. She used to hunker down and hide if she saw him in Winn-Dixie. He would yell her name across the store and then come up and give her a big bear hug.  You can bet your bottom dollar that if Smitty sees you from a distance he’s going to yell your name and make sure you see him whether you want to or not. M and I have both been known to hide a few times when Smitty has been on the prowl.

When we first moved to the neighborhood, Smitty had a small patio table and two chairs perched on top of his roof. He says it gives him the perfect view for watching fireworks on Memorial Day. He and his friends like to sit on the roof, relax and drink a beer or two or three or four, and so on and so on. They used a ladder to get up and down, but after a while got bored with the ladder and tried doing it the Tarzan way.  They would jump off the roof, grab hold of a branch and swing to the ground.  It worked until one of the Tarzan wannabes missed and landed flat on the ground.  Thankfully he wasn't seriously injured, but after that there wasn't any more monkeying around.

Chico and His Men

It seems the Mexicans like to target practice with their pistols behind their house. I’ll always remember the time they happened to use an aerosol can for one of their targets. When the bullet hit the can, the ____ hit the fan! It exploded with a terrible bang and caught the grass on fire. You could see smoke billowing over the house tops.

My dog, Cleo, and I were out for a walk when the chaos happened. Neighbors and pets were running everywhere. Even poor Cleo was "movin it" in spite of her arthritic joints. KC came running up the street wearing a wife beater tank top with no bra on and barefoot. You would have had to have seen it to have believed it. She was screaming as she ran, and almost collided with Joe Cool amidst the blaring of the fire truck.

And then there was the other fire incident. The stench and smoke was so bad I called Helga to see if she knew what the hey was going on. Through process of elimination, we figured out the Mexicans were at it again. This time they were burning leaves in their side yard, on a day when the wind was blowing so fierce, there was a burn ban in effect. The fire started spreading and Thelma's house was in it’s path. Her crew sprang into action, running outside to move their bicycles from the impending doom. God forbid, they could not lose their only mode of transportation. The situation was so dangerous the Fire Department had to make a second call to the house on the corner.

“Cast of Characters” continued

Saturn Man - One day last summer I noticed a Saturn SUV drive up to the back of the medical office across the street. An older guy got out of the vehicle, walked to the back door and returned with a bag in his hand. When he reached the end of the driveway, he stopped his vehicle, lifted up the lid of three different garbage cans, peered inside and then went on his merry way.

My curiosity was getting the best of me and I made a point to watch the following day. Sure enough he came back and has been coming back every Monday through Friday since. I’ve noticed Saturn Man’s routine varies from day to day. Sometimes he has a bag in his hand and sometimes he doesn’t. Some days he retrieves something from the garbage and other days he leaves empty handed.

Since the P.D. has suggested we report any suspicious activity, I thought I would do my civic duty and alert them about Saturn Man. A guy rifling through garbage cans at a medical complex, randomly leaving with ____ (who knows what) sure seems suspicious to me. The P.D. sent an officer to my house. After hearing the details, he asked me to get the Saturn’s tag number. I called it into their office and I’ve yet to hear back from the officer. Oh yeah, did I mention this happened last summer?   I no longer see the jewel-toned Saturn, but that doesn’t bring me comfort. In its place is a white pick up truck. Same driver, same habits. Hmmm...

The Mexicans - Mr. Man (A.K.A my husband) refers to them as “Chico and his Men.” Very friendly and nice, there are three generations living in this house on the corner. The older two generations seem to be quiet, but the younger generation is a lively bunch. The grand matriarch barely speaks English, but she said enough to convey the message that she just does not know what she is going to do with those boys! My guess is that they are still under the illusion that they are living across the border!

Emma - Through a casual conversation over a fence five years ago, I met M and we've been friends ever since. Some people are fair-weather friends, others come and go, but you keep friends like M. We bake Christmas cookies together, share recipes, garden together, shop together, swap left-overs, borrow what we need and talk a lot with each other. We look out for each other and for each other’s house. If I see someone or something suspicious going on, I call M and she does the same for me. I guess you could call us the “Street Keepers.”

Small Town America

What has happened to small-town America? Several years ago I moved to a charming little town off the beaten path. It reminded me of where my little grandmother used to live, back in the good ole days. However, in the last couple of years I have become somewhat disillusioned. The tentacles of evil seem to have found their way into this quaint little town. Often I see shady looking people walking and riding bikes by my house, some of whom don’t seem to be from the area. The pit bull population is on the rise as well. It seems a lot of people have them and for what purpose I do not know. Protection, maybe? The little wooded area close by appears to be a hiding spot for illegal transactions. After 10 years in this little town, I’ve come to know some very interesting folks.

Cast of Characters in My Town:

KC, A.K.A. Crazy Cat Lady - This sweetie is a regular Dr. Doolittle, but with some additional quirks, such as cat hoarding. She boasts her indoor cat population to be in excess of 50. The only one allowed in her house to verify this is her friend Helga. Helga having no idea what she was getting into was roped into helping KC one morning. This poor unsuspecting soul was quoted as saying, “Next time I have to go in that house, I’m wearing a hazmat suit!” Helga said there were cats running everywhere and it would be impossible to count them all.

Miss Dee - She happens to be a large, boisterous woman with a country attitude. And, the outside of her house? YIKES! It looks like something out of a gothic horror movie. Yep, strange things happen in Miss Dee’s house of horrors. It’s been known and documented (I even saw the obituary) that one of her “customers” expired (I’m not talking dates here, I’m talking dying, as in the real deal) on her couch. Rumor has it that he went to take a nap and never woke up. I’ll buy that one. There are comings and goings at all hours of the night over at Miss Dee’s house. We heard from the P.D. that this is being monitored by the “powers that be.” At least that’s what they said two years ago. We’re still hopeful...

Smitty - A jovial old soul who looks like a cross between Grizzly Adams and a rotund little Buddha, who happens to be friends with Miss Dee. Smitty will give you the shirt off his back, only you don’t know how clean it may or may not be. His personal hygiene leaves a lot to the imagination. He used to drive an old, huge “grocery getter” and you could hear it way before you saw him coming. It was called the “smitty” alert. Now he’s driving a quiet little compact and you never know when he’s around the corner headed at you. Seems there are always mis-fits and undesirables either living with, or hanging out at his house. The P.D. has been monitoring his house as well. Yawn...

Joe Cool - Just a good ole boy who means well, but... One day as I was walking my dog by his house I almost passed out from the vision in front of me. What to my wandering eyes should appear? There hanging in the fruit orchard was a gutted deer! Seems Joe Cool was filling up his freezer with Bambi’s mom. Joe Cool has a canine sidekick, a real howler of a dog, a fat little Beagle named Rose. Only she’s not a rose. She’s a thorn in everybody’s side with her incessant barking.

Thelma - A senior citizen whose yard looks like a little fairy garden with a white picket fence. Two vehicles in her driveway, three people living in the house and none of them have a valid driver’s license. Need I say more? So they have to pedal around town on their bicycles. Knowing the reason why they lost their driving privilege, makes one wonder how they navigate the traffic around town on their bikes. Due to Thelma’s problem she almost got sent to the “Big House,” only the judge let her go. Hmmm... never quite understood that one.

Roger Dodger - That’s his name, alcohol is his game. A slick guy who happens to be Thelma’s boyfriend, he has been known to pick on the opposite sex. Or should I say, “push, hit, knock down, beat up, etc.” the opposite sex?” Guess you get the picture. Seems the alcohol brings on his desire to beat up helpless women. Yes the P.D. knows all about Roger Dodger and has arrested him on numerous occasions. Doesn’t seem to matter. He serves a little time and history repeats itself.

Tommy Boy, A.K.A. Trick Pony - An ex-con who fancies himself as quite the Casanova. His truck reminds me of an ashtray on wheels. Tommy Boy’s greatest passion in life is “dumpster diving” and he lives by the motto, “Your trash is my cash.” He’s even been known to sell a possum or two in desperate times. How he comes by the possums is a whole other story. (Check back later for that post.) Tommy reminds me of a modern day Robin Hood. I see him all over town at all hours of the day and hear his “ashtray truck” leaving at all hours of the night. When he comes home from one of his runs, he backs his truck into the carport and quietly sneaks his loot into the house.

Miss Fancy Nancy - A kindly person who happens to be Tommy Boy’s woman. Nancy is also a hoarder. Boy, is she ever! Nancy hoards everything. If you set something by your curb, you can bet your sweet dollar that Nancy is going to snatch it up. You’ll see more food, floral arrangements and junk than you can shake a stick at, in plain view at her house. Nancy’s claim to fame is that she wants to get rid of Tommy, but can’t bring herself to let him go. You see she’s been smitten and bitten by the love bug, baby. These are mental pictures I don’t even want to think about. One has to wonder, is a love connection or the loot Tommy nets, that keeps Nancy from letting him go.

Helga - Oh my goodness what a sweet, sweet soul she is and a super sleuth if there ever was one! Most of my pertinent information comes from her and it always checks out. How does she do it? Well, back in her younger days she had a lot of connections with the P.D., lawyers, and court system, honing her investigative skills. I’ve seen pictures of her from her younger years and she was quite a “looker” in her day, a classic German beauty. She’s somewhat disabled now and not in the best of health, but is still an amazing woman and a close confidant.

The Burbs - Strange neighbors living a stone’s throw away. I call them “The Burbs” because they’re anti-social. If you ever saw that old Tom Hanks movie, “The Burbs,” you would understand my reasoning. In the movie there were dead bodies buried in the backyard, Even though my neighbors don’t look freakish like the characters in the movie, they certainly act it. Who knows what’s in their back yard? Inquiring minds want to know, or at least I do. Could it be a dead dog instead of a body??? I have hidden in the corner of my yard  and listened to Mr. Burb ranting and screaming at the dog simply because he knocked over his water bowl.

Ricky - The scary dude who doesn’t look the part and that’s what makes him so scary. Looks truly can be deceiving. Ricky is a known alcoholic, has been run out of stores, is a stalker, trespasser, and seems to get his kicks from making women feel uncomfortable. Yes, Ricky has an arrest record, duh! I’ve spoken to the P.D. about him and the officer I spoke with seems to think he’s harmless since all his altercations have been minor ones. I’ve encountered him twice and I don’t consider him to be harmless. It’s just a matter of time...

The Sundown Condos - A true “house of horrors” inhabited by people doing drugs and other unscrupulous acts. I know for a fact that two people have died there under mysterious circumstances. This has to be true because not only have I read it in the newspaper, but Helga has given me first hand information. I’ve seen the P.D. over there on numerous occasions. I don’t think they’re monitoring it because it seems to be after the fact, that they’ve shown up.

To be continued...