Miasmatic Review

Would you be my neighbor?

I was talking to one of my minions at work about a problem she is having with her neighbors. This made me think about my neighbors. My neighbors leave me alone. They don’t come over to borrow things; they don’t send their kids over to sell me things. I used to have a neighbor that I would stand at the fence with, talk to, and drink beer with when we saw each other out at the same time. The man was a lawn care fool. He loved mowing his lawn and trimming his bushes. He always had the nicest manicured lawn in the neighborhood. He had a nice wife and two nice kids. Boopie used to play with the kids when he wasn’t in school. They decided to move to a bigger house out of the city about a year ago. I genuinely miss them. Now the only neighbors I have on the block are all scared of me.

The new next-door neighbors that moved in try to avoid making eye contact with me when they are outside. Once I tried to get the wife’s attention and I swear she shielded her eyes with her hand, quickened her step and shooed her children into the house. The husband doesn’t seem to be home too much, but when he is he generally doesn’t acknowledge me either and tries to avoid eye contact. A couple of Saturday’s ago, after dark, my wife thought she heard someone in the backyard. I went out the front door to see if I could figure out who it is. The new neighbor was sitting on his back porch and when he saw me stalking the yard, he asked what was going on. That was the first time he has said more then two words to me in 4 months.

All my other neighbors go out of their way to avoid me. They’ve all seen me swinging swords, cleaning fire arms, sharpening knives, building artillery carriages, hauling in large packages marked “WARNING: EXPLOSIVES! BLACK POWDER FOR SMALL ARMS!” teaching my kid the most appropriate and easy way to kill a person with a toy sword. I received the best reaction when I told Boopie once, “If you hit a person in the femoral artery they will die quickly, however if you make a nice deep belly wound they will die a slow painful death. If you are lucky, any allies or friends they have nearby will try to help save his life. Now you have effectively taken 2-3 people out of the battle. However, you could also kill the people giving aid when their backs are turned.” I didn’t realize one of my other neighbors was outside watering plants with her kids and they had heard it. Shortly after, they moved out as well. Go figure.

There is an upside to being the scary guy in the neighborhood. Nobody messes with my house or property. There was a string of minor burglaries in my neighborhood. My house and the neighbor that I liked were the only houses not hit. I think the entire neighborhood warns anyone new that moves in about me. I do know that they refer to me as “The Scary Guy”. One day I was out in my back yard scrubbing and swabbing out my musket when this family goes walking by on the sidewalk. I hear the little girl ask, “Mommy, look its The Scary Guy, the one Mr. Brown told you about.” The mother and father hurried their daughter along; I just sat back and grinned. In addition, another time one of the neighborhood kids came up and asked me if I was “The Scary guy” I couldn’t help but to assure him that I was with my patented child scowl.

I also don’t have the problems with my neighbors that I hear other people talk of. They don’t complain to me about the stuff I do. No one comes over to borrow anything. They don’t pop in at odd hours. Their kids stay out of my yard and more importantly they don’t use my cooler as a urinal. I’m not asked favors. It’s a symbiotic relationship. I scare the bad elements away and they leave me alone. In general, life is good for me.