"What's the scenery like?"

The Sunday of a long weekend is a fun time on the T-town porch. Lots of activity and hilarity.

The police were called to neighborhood by midday (probably for a domestic dispute although I don't think there was any actual violence just lots of yelling). There were about 15 screaming folks on the porch with two cops trying to make sense of the whole thing.

The boys were out last night and decided the best way to recover was to wake and bake then go swimming. The boys and friends frequently go to the front porch for one of three things: 1. smoke 2. talk on the cell phone 3. talk to a girl. What I can't seem to figure out is if they don't anyone is out here or if they are just too goofy or stoned to care. During the afternoon (pre-swimming) the whole house emptied out onto the 6 x 4 space that is the front porch. There was in-depth discussion on going swimming because it was just "too f@*#ing hot" to do anything else and the water was going to feel "so f@*#ing great!" There was some other mumblings -- mostly peppered with f@*# and other obscenities along with a lot of man, dude, and bro about the fabulous time had Sat. night. This included a Big Boy in someone's apartment, a B&E with a credit card into a friend's apartment, loss of said credit card, and boy 1's complete blackout of of the entire event.

While the boys were gone, Milo ran away -- not far just to the neighbor's yard. I can't say I blame him. His dad came out yelling the dog was missing. This is what happens when you let your puppy run around unattended. Milo's dad is going have a child soon. His skills have not been honed on the dog.

Post swimming at the boys house -- there was a lot of whining and crying about sun-burns. In an effort to ease their suffering, they self-medicated. Why do I know this? Because someone had to make a cell phone call and thus it was all explained about 10 feet from my porch while I read my book. One was so toasty he ended up lying in the driveway in the fetal position. In his defense, he did explain that "the gardner" who I assume is his dad, while cutting grass cut down his "weed" which was growing in the weeds near the house. The poor plant was taken from about a foot and a half to about four inches. Rest assured he did save it's remains and hang it in his closet to dry. They did manage to pull it together enough to call and look for action. The conversation ended with "what's the scenery like at this party?" and "what high school are they from." I am guessing that neither of these things should really be asked when you are baked and in your 20s. Sixteen will get you twenty son.

The sun has set and we will settle in for the fireworks. Every long weekend brings idiots with fire in West Toledo.

Why the loved ones can't go to Shorty's anymore...

My friend Barb calls young adults between 17-29 "loved ones." This started when her own son did what we all do while in college - drink, make an ass of himself, screw up classes, drink, get parking tickets, blah, blah, blah. For the record he has turned out incredibly well and is now a responsible happily-married father of a 3-week old son. Since she and I both work in higher ed we see a lot of "loved ones" in our offices after they have done one of the following:

• failed a class
• cheated on something
• lost eligibility
• lost a scholarship
• lost parental support
• is about to be removed from the class

It is an unfortunate truth that people have no ability to make consistence good decisions at this point in their lives. I do not claim to have skipped this phase -- on the contrary I am sure that the new neighbors are karma kicking me in the ass from my days in Tiffin. I accept it.

So obviously the boys next door do in fact fall into the "loved ones" category. The bad decision for this week -- herb. In the past week there has been a lot of herb in the air. I would like to say they keep it on the down low but obviously I can't.

Monday they smoked "little cigarettes" (Eric's term) on the front porch. Really? Dear lord. On Tuesday they moved to the back yard (better). However in the backyard they have access to objects that one on herb should avoid -- a grill, a lawnmower, and a skateboard. At this point I entered 911 into my speed dial. Barb says we have to take care of the "loved ones" because as dumb as they are they have mothers who would miss them. Luckily they also have a corn hole game out there and that seemed to amuse them more than the other items even if they do take it a bit too seriously. Soon the inevitable occurred -- some strange female showed up. I think she was new but it is hard to be certain. She was not boy 1's ex or the brunette that did the walk of shame to her car on Sunday afternoon, or any of the one's who have been pounding on the windows at ungodly hours. We dubbed her the "dope bitch" because she took over rolling "little cigarettes" on a lap desk. Try as I may to keep them inside, sooner or later, five dogs have to pee. My dogs, because they are so well trained, run directly to the fence and bark incessantly at neighbors. Apparently at this point it dawns on them that "little cigarettes" are illegal and they freeze like deer in headlights. I yell at the dogs who don't listen and then go inside to get treats because I don't relish the idea of dealing with petrified kids jamming to Miley Cirus. Hooray for dog treats.

Wednesday brings more corn hole and another random girl who was probably roped into the rolling gig. It also brings Neighborhood boys' friend -- he laughs like a female hyena and whoots a lot. When he pulls up to park in front of my lawn he is actually yelping. He continues to yelp all the way to the backyard and then yelps through corn hole. Corn hole breaks up early and girl leaves. I realize she is in fact young lady from walk of shame fame the previous weekend. The remaining corn holers end up on the front porch (which is not a big space) where they are giggling with their "little cigarette." Apparently the herb makes them forget that there are people sitting in the porch next to them because they begin to lay into the hyena about his sexual conquests -- poor Jesse and Amy being the latest. I figure you really have to be bad if the whores are calling you a whore. Hyena likes waitresses it seems and his pipe-laying through Toledo's establishments has begun to interfere with their lives. It ends with "Because of you, we can't even go to Shorty's!"

And we will call the invisible one boy 4

It is nice to be on the porch again. The street was bustling tonight. The father-to-be down the road was attempting, unsuccessfully to train Milo not run into the street. There was a good parenting moment of a mother bellowing at her child to go put his freaking pajamas on and go to bed. A man yelled at some woman for not accepting his friend request on Facebook (she got into her car and drove away so I am guessing they aren't going to be friends anytime soon). However the best evening porch moment goes once again to the neighbor boys. Boy three emerged this evening, trotted to the car and trotted back in. A few minutes later he returned. He trotted to the car, began laughing and talking to someone. At first listen you would think he was on the phone, but no. So I am calling the invisible one boy four.

Night of the Living Dead

So I am convinced Dracula lives on my street. A strange shaven-headed man just walked by the porch... in a full legnth black cape. I know you think I am kidding or on crack, but no -- Dracula just walked by my house. He walked past the house (actually he may have floated) and when he ws about 30 feet away he stopped under a street light, ruffled his cape around, looked up at the moon and moved on.

It's a shame he missed the boys coming home because he might have been able to partake in some alcohol enriched type O. They pulled in at break neck speeds about ten minutes after he passed. They were singing "no more pine tree, no more pine tree" in bad asian accent -- reminiscent of Jerry Lewis.

Maybe Dracula will come back so I can point him in the right direction. I think I might go look for a turtle-neck first...

Idol and other weirdos

Last night was warm and the weirdos do come out at night...

Down the road there was a neighborhood rendition of American Idol. I have no idea what the song was because I am completely out of touch with popular music. I won't lie and say there was a whole lot of talent, but she did it with all the passion one would expect from a neighborhood song-fest.

The boys had a party which is not surprising because it was Friday. They have made a conscious effort to keep it down probably because Krista went over in her bathrobe and screamed at them as only a mother of four adults could. It could also have something to do with her husband's last trip to the gun show. One of the boys does appear to have a new girlfriend. He was trying to get a few moments alone with her on their stoop. It would have been sweet and romantic, except I know all boys to be whores. I have been there when the girls from the week before come banging on the doors and windows at 2 AM so they don't fool me. After they went back to the party, some random girl (who Eric thought was the WIC recipient of a few weeks ago) pulled up in front of our house, jumped out of the car, ran in, ran out, went back to the car, and drove away all within 3 minutes. No idea what it was about. I would say drug deal but not enough time passed for money to change hands. For the record, she didn't look pregnant to me so I think it was someone else. I used to find this a bit strange, but now I look forward to the new characers I meet on the porch.