This morning a codger whose house I frequently pass stopped what he was doing, thrust his chin out, and gave me the Seriously Big Stinkeye. Not for the first time, either.
I knew my crime: I was driving five miles an hour under the speed limit. Yes, under.
A couple months back he flagged me down and lectured me for going the speed limit (25 mph). He wants the limit reduced to 15 mph. Anybody exceeding that earns his wrath for endangering pets and wildlife (never mind that most of us are pet owners ourselves and the neighborhood tends to run to staid old people and the respectable middle-aged).
He’s taken to haunting city council meetings, ranting lurid tales of dead fawns in his driveway (he doesn’t have a driveway) and defunct opossums and their babies launched 20 feet into his yard (unlikely unless they were already airborne at the moment of impact) by the hordes of speeders racing up and down our street.
Dead deer are likely; we’ve been overrun with the critters since the forest-product companies closed their woodlands. But at his request the police have sent patrol officers to watch us and even set up one of those “your speed is” devices next to Mr. Codger’s house. Except for the occasional stupid kid, there are no speeders.
Mr. Codger believes none of this. So many dead animals have been launched into his yard (and his imagination) that he recently installed a vertical array of tarps to keep their flying corpses on the outside.
This guy had a business in town many years ago. His management style was … eccentric. Now eccentricity may be morphing into mental illness or dementia.
Getting the evil eye for driving past his house is creepy, but as long as he doesn’t grab a shotgun and shoot the tires out from under his passing neighbors for failing to adhere to his personal speed limit, it’s just something to live with.
Thing is, he’s beginning to act goofy enough that shooting tires — or anything else — isn’t out of the question.
He’s from an old local family, but I believe he’s the last of it. There’s nobody to curb his behavior or spot that he might be headed ’round the bend in the road between eccentric and insane.
Mostly, I love this town and small-town life in general. But it has its weird moments, and Mr. Codger is just one of the “moments” we’re currently experiencing.
Sorry to hear you and the neighbours have to deal with someone like this… it only takes one to tarnish an otherwise good situation…
From my LE experience, I can’t begin to tell you how many times ‘in my yard’ was actually in the street – often a hundred or more feet down the street… or ‘obnoxiously loud’ was really a quite reasonable volume level…. or ‘coming and going all hours of the day and night’ was really that one time some guy ran out of Preparation H and felt strongly enough about it that a run to 7-11 at 1am was worth it this one time….
People are strange that’s for sure and when they get a bee in their bonnet there’s no telling what will happen…
Good luck, and watch yer six….
Thanks, brew. So far he’s more of a bizarre amusement than a real troublemaker. It’s just odd, in this friendly town, to have a near neighbor turn hostile. But I realize it’s nothing personal.
Our town newspaper prints the police blotter every week, so I have a bit of an idea what you’re talking about. For years there was one woman (never identified by name, but obviously the same person) who made emergency calls at least twice a week, crying that her children were holding her captive and starving her. Really, she was just some poor old demented lady.
One day she called Furrydoc’s office by mistake instead of 911 (she may have been a previous client; I’m not sure). They were so alarmed by her tale of horror that they were putting together a bag of groceries and were about to mount a rescue effort when somebody pointed out who she was.
We’ve got another woman in town — I know her slightly — who boasts of the number of times the police have been out to her house after she’s made complaints. She openly gloats about how that makes her special.
I don’t envy small-town cops.
I used to have a neighbor across the street like that lady on Bewitched. Fern (her name) was forever peering out from behind her drapes, and she even descended to sneaking across the street during the day to open the gate and let my dogs out. After they went missing for two weeks once, I’d had enough. I told her husband to keep her inside because the next time my dogs were let out I was going to have her picked up and incarcerated under a ‘green warrant’ for psych evaluation. It worked – I never saw her again, although a divorce the next year kind of skews the meaning of never….
Ol’ Codger doesn’t really sound like the type, but there are folks out there that just want to be acknowledged, even if in a negative way… sort of the ‘even bad publicity is better than no publicity at all’….
And there are some folks who are so lonely they’ll do nearly anything to talk to someone, even if it’s to the local cops to piss and moan about some ‘serious’ or not so serious problem… I think the local LE putting up the ‘your speed is’ sign thingy was a good rub in his face actually…. see? They aren’t speeding dood so STFH….
And the other side of the coin is there are elders out there that are just really sweet, nice good people but just don’t have anyone to talk to… we used to get ‘prowler’ calls in the middle of the night a lot, we show up and do our thing but really, the elder just wants someone to come in and sit down over a cup of coffee for a chat…. one guy became a regular, about two days after every grand kids visit, he’d put the coffee on and dial 9-1-1….
These are all hilarious, but Post #2 is apropos to this thread:
https://thefiringline.com/forums/showthread.php?t=146333&highlight=lawdog+files
His two books are available on Amazon. Free for Prime/Kindle Unlimited. 🙂
If I had a neighbor like that, that called the cops on me, I’d stop for roadkills to really give him something to complain about. All anonymously, of course.
Sounds like the guy has dementia. It can lead to bizarre behavior and sometimes makes those stricken with it become mean and nasty. That happened to my uncle, who was a great and gentle guy, but as his dementia progressed, he got mean, totally out of character for him! I had a neighbor that had it and she was found walking down the main road into town totally naked! After that, her daughter had her placed in a care facility for people with dementia.
The next time the codger gives you the Big Stinkeye look just think he could be running around naked as RV suggested which puts a whole new perspective on how bad that stinkeye look really is.
One of the last incidents my father-in-law went through before we had to put him in a locked facility was wandering off from this apartment. Mom called the police. When they found him, he said he was just walking home.
He was in San Antonio, and “home” was Pittsburgh, which in his mind was just over the next hill. We were lucky, though, he never turned mean. And as our local LEOs say, “Being crazy isn’t against the law.”
I’d keep an eye on Stinkeye. Not so much because he might turn dangerous, which is only a remote possibility. Mainly because he might start “walking to Pittsburgh” and need more help than he’s getting. Locking someone up is never a good thing, but sometimes it isn’t the worst thing.
Dead deer are likely; we’ve been overrun with the critters
I sympathize. The county where I live has the highest population density of whitetail deer in the world.
Hi Claire…I have one of those neighbors in my life, she really just wants attention but disagree with her …o-boy
That was sort of a test comment I have been reading your blog, ( and Joels for years now )…thought I might participate
Welcome, patrick. I’m glad you introduced yourself (but sorry you have one of those neighbors).
Thanks for the welcome Claire I found your blog after reading Hardyville Tales… that is good writing …at 1st. I thought the place just might be real…there’s a little town north of me where I have a couple acres of land that’s home to a few of these type of folks, your blog also led to me to following mama liberty, zelmans and others. Keep writing and doing your artwork, Pat
“He was in San Antonio, and “home” was Pittsburgh, which in his mind was just over the next hill. We were lucky, though, he never turned mean. And as our local LEOs say, “Being crazy isn’t against the law.””
My grandfather was like that, toward the end. Nice as could be, but he didn’t have a clue where he was or who we were. Drove to the drugstore 2 blocks away from his house in Chicago, and wound up in Green Bay.
I’ve had relatives who went the other way, though, and this neighbor does sound like them. Hopefully someone will evaluate him before he resorts to the shotgun.
@Desertrat: Those stories are awesome! I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time!!!
I agree; the stories really are awesome. I’ve sent them on.
The only neighbor who ever kinda gives me the stinkeye is the Vietnamese guy who lives catty-corner to me. He’s got mental problems. He got angry once because Nemesis wouldn’t give him money, and he still holds a grudge. His dogs are always escaping from him and he goes all around the neighborhood screaming at them in his native tongue. The dogs either don’t understand him, or they don’t care. His 80+ year-old mom likes us, but she’s a little odd, too. I’ve seen her doing some sort of ritual in the yard before; chanting and tossing water into the street. I wish I knew what she was hoping the gods would accomplish for her. Her son gives her a lot of trouble with his problems, so maybe she was casting a spell on him. I really like her pointy Asian-style hat, and she was very happy when I told her so.