My Redneck Neighbors—– Yet Again

As some of you might remember, I have been blessed with having redneck neighbors.  You remember, the cop!!  Kinda like Barney Fife!!  Remember these classic photos?

His pickup truck before all four tires went flat and he had it towed away with a crane.

 

 His trusty Vespa with the custom rust-colored paint job

 And who could forget his bicycle with the really cool seat??

Well, you might also remember that when we had our front yard sodded there was some leftover sod, so we had the landscapers sod the patch of dirt that we shared (we own 25% of it), with the promise that at least one of those bumpkins would water it.  They were thrilled and they were quick to agree.  Anyhow, they have yet, after a year, squirted one drop of water on it.  Guess who waters it???  Last week I noticed a brown spot and no matter how much I watered it, it just continued to grow.  Last night I strolled outside and saw redneck’s son standing in the street urinating on it!!!

 

That was NOT what I meant by watering!!!!  IN THE STREET?????  This is the same kid who waxes his surfboard every week but doesn’t surf!  We need to talk!

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I hope you’re not bored by these but I have another article by my favorite columnist, Chris Erskine!

In the pre-prom dance, I follow

Prom night can be a magical evening, but it comes at a price, including frayed nerves, harsh words and a hefty credit card debt.
Chris Erskine
May 30, 2009
"I’m going to Starbucks," Posh announces. "Want anything?"

"No."

"Sure?"

The way to mess with Posh’s head lately is to not want anything. She is so under the gun — with prom, with graduation, with life — that when you don’t want anything from her, she gets very suspicious of your intentions. I assure you, my intentions are as suspect as the next guy’s. But I try not to press it.

"You sure you don’t want anything?" she asks again.

Like many mothers, Posh is a Starbucks aficionado. Her latest fave is a half-Valium, half-vodka mocha frap with a Red Bull boost. After three of four of those, she is good to go.

And that’s very fortunate, because tonight is prom, the biggest, longest night of the year. Imagine Christmas, Mardi Gras and a beauty pageant smashed together like a muddy snowball.

Already, my wife and the little girl have yelled at each other once, and that was before they even woke up.

Now, loitering around the kitchen at the ungodly hour of 9 a.m., the little girl is laying out her schedule for the day. She punctuates each event by making a click-cluck sound with her tongue — like pool balls colliding — and making the sort of gesture umpires use to signal strike three.

Pre-prom schedule:

10 a.m. Mani-pedi.

11 a.m. Borrow some trippy shoes from a friend, probably Natasha.

Noon. Apologize to Mom for things said in haste.

1 p.m. Find jewelry to go with outfit for the evening.

2 p.m. Put clothes together for post-prom party.

3 p.m. Get hair and makeup done.

4 p.m. Apologize again to mother for being sort of snippy.

6:30 p.m. Be late for pre-prom pictures.

"Oh, and you and Dad have to figure out how to get a car down to Balboa Island," she announces before returning to her bedroom.

"Why Balboa?" I ask Posh.

 
"That’s where the party is."

"But . . . ?"

"Because they want to be down by the beach," Posh explains.

You know what it’ll be like dropping a car off in Balboa? First, there is only one parking spot in Balboa, and that is likely already taken. So we’ll take a car down there, wait forever at that stoplight on Pacific Coast Highway, then slither our way across the island hoping that the one parking place opens up while we are nearby.

Fortunately, I have nothing to do with my life than cater to the whims of my four children.

Later, the plans change, as prom plans often do — usually minute to minute.

"They’re flying to Paris?" I guess.

"Rome," says Posh.

Honestly, I don’t know who’s financing this whole prom adventure. I’m selling blood almost daily just to pay the mortgage. Instead of milk, I’m eating my Wheaties with stale merlot — breakfast of morose and fallen champions.

Last year, the little girl wore a borrowed dress to prom, and I was so proud of her frugality — her consideration of our unsteady finances — that I had to tell the world. In this very space, I announced that she wore a borrowed dress to prom. Better if I had stood up in church and announced she had 14 toes.

"Barneys," she explains when I say something nice about this year’s dress.

Barneys? I love Barneys. Sounds like a good place to get a sandwich, when in fact it is a very expensive place to buy a shirt. I once priced a sock — one sock — at Barneys. On sale, it was $422.

"I need a check, Mom," the little girl says.

"Why?"

"To pay for the boutonniere," she says.

At about 6:30, we arrive late for prom pictures. This photo session is a relatively new tradition in which all the kids — who travel in packs to prom, in limos the size of New Jersey — gather in someone’s backyard for pre-dance group shots.

It is a sensational California evening, all buttery light and songbirds. The kids glow like movie stars in this beautiful garden. There is a helicopter floating overhead; I expect it to drop rose petals at just the proper time. Life could not be more perfect. Camelot on a credit card.

We have mostly survived her teen years. We survived the arguments over curfew. Arguments over grades. Arguments over clothes, cars, boys, money, jobs, chores, hair, diet, drugs, drinking, cellphones, church, skincare, music and movies. Arguments over brushing, wiping, flossing, cussing, scrubbing, bathing, sleeping and flushing.

And now we have survived this — preparations for her senior prom, the last lovely moments of an American childhood.

Hold still, kid. Click . . . click.

Listen, kid, try not to upstage the flowers. Click.

Wow.

 

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Update: ( I think) I got the sprinklers fixed except for the leak.  My friend , Jane, warned me that I would be walking with a sprinkler tool hanging from my neck!!  She was right!!  Having the leak fixed today by guess who?…… No!!  No the redneck neighbor!!!  By my wonderful gardeners!

That Steam Mop worked GREAT!!  Scared the crap out of the dogs, but it did a nice job and the floor dries in like 10 seconds!!  I just wish it had a longer cord.  If you buy one, buy extra cleaning pads and use distilled water.  I have yet to try the carpet attachment but I’m pleased with the mop.

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Lakers won last night so they are in the finals!!!!  Killed Denver, 119 to 92!  It doesn’t seem to matter who they play now.  They were awesome!!!

I hope you all are having relaxing and enjoyable weekends!

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7 Responses to My Redneck Neighbors—– Yet Again

  1. Grandma's says:

    Guess you better buy them pore redneck folk a toilet….LOL…and teach them what it is for so’s they don’t do their laundry in it.Sheesh, some people!!We have new neighbours across the street now (in a rental house). All manner of cars pull up during the day…stay a few minutes and are gone again. Both he and she look like they are walking around in a drugged up haze…neither of them, as far as I can tell, work. Every weekend they have a yard sale….and sell the most unsightly junk….so of course, that adds more traffic to what used to be quiet street…because of all the lookie-loos. Once the cops have come to shut-down a noisy party being held by their drunken teeny-boppers (parents were home at the time). What I don’t care for is the foul language that we must listen to on a daily basis. Hope they move soon. Don’t think the rent for that house is all that cheap.Hope you are having a great weekend, Bob.

  2. Joe says:

    The chronicles with your neighbors never ceases to entertain Bob. I think our neighbors by our church would be about like that I think if I put their anttics on my blog. Here where our house is it’s pretty quiet and normal. I hate to think what sort of situation you’d end up with if they fixed your sprinklers LOL! Have a great weekend my friend.

  3. Lori BJ says:

    the tv did not entertain today but you did – thanks

  4. CAROL says:

    HOLY COW..BOB..what’s the matter their toilet not working??? GEeeeeeeeeez! The scooter made me cringe good grief and the bike is beyond repair I am thinking.. Glad you reccomend the steam mop.. saves a lot of time and sanitary too. I will look into that. I saw one on QVC or some show like that with a long long cord on it. Take care : )

  5. Sue says:

    Loved the article about the Prom. Thanks goodness I have only BOYS. And M is several years away from it. So, do tell us all about this mop. I love my hardwood floors, but they do get dingy from time to time. If it scares your dogs, mine will be trying to get UNDER the waterbed frame! She hates any loud noises!!! Glad the Lakes won and am keeping a close eye on those Detroit Tigers this year…

  6. ♥ Aimee says:

    steam mops rule…i couldn’t live without mine!!!by the way i really missed the redneck neighbours…glad summer is back!!~*:.♥.:*~ because you shared a smile :o) someone’s day got brighter… ~*:.♥.:*~

  7. Duckie says:

    I posted about proms back in April. After Emily’s horriffic prom date, Emily announced to the creep "My Mom can make boys cry." and I can and I do.

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