Since life in the country seems to be lived mainly outside, I feel as though I have gotten to know you over the last two years of living near you. It has been fun, but I can’t really say I’ll be sad to say goodbye.
I must admit, I was a little unsure of moving to the country. On one hand, I was excited not to have to mow my grass or worry about picking up my dog’s poop every time he went outside. This seemed like a great improvement from subdivision life where neighbors get to vote on what color you’ll paint your house. On the other hand, I had heard rumors and stereotypes, and I was hoping they weren’t true.
I’m not big on stereotypes. I feel like it’s not nice to judge other people without getting to know them. I’ve heard the names….white trash, trailer trash, rednecks, to name a few, and I didn’t want to be called those. I did not want people to assume that my children did not own shoes or a hair brush just because we lived in a trailer, so I tried not to assume that about you. You didn’t make it easy. In fact, I’m pretty sure, through some of you, I have found the origin of those assumptions.
So, dear neighbors, I want to thank you for the entertainment. I can honestly say life living near you was never boring. I want to give special recognition to a few of you who will always be dear to my heart. You are forever engrained in my memory.
To my front neighbors, thank you. Although you didn’t invite me to your redneck wedding, I was so happy to have a front row seat for the whole thing. The white paper table cloths were a special added touch to go on the tables beside the trash can with stuff burning in it. Candlelight is so romantic for a wedding. It was great that you shoveled the horse manure out of the area before your guests arrived and started parking in the pasture. You definitely went the extra mile for the blessed event.
Your music choice was interesting. I’ve never heard those words said at a wedding before, but who am I to judge? To each his own, I suppose. I had never heard those songs before either, but I must say I had them memorized by 4:00 AM when you turned off the CD. It was a nifty rhythm that competed nicely with the salsa tunes coming from the trailer behind us. Your sound system was much more impressive, though, because I could barely hear their music over yours. In fact, I think they felt defeated, because around 2:00 AM, they gave up and turned it off. Light-weights. They just couldn’t handle partying as long as you could.
To our side neighbors, I know you are so proud that Bubba finally found his pants. For two years, I’ve heard you yelling at that boy to put on his pants, and today, as he was peeking through the fence at me, he actually was wearing clothes. Congratulations for that. Bubba has come a long way. Now, if he only would put on some shoes.
Speaking of innovative, you, our side neighbors, probably take the cake on this one. Cutting the metal off your trailer to sell it for scrap metal was quite a creative solution when you ran out of drug money. I don’t think I would have thought of that in a sober condition, let alone while high. I’m not sure how you managed to make it look as though you used scissors to do the job. You are quite the exterior decorators. Kuddos to you. Perhaps your unsided trailer will start a new trend in the ‘hood.
The across the street motorcycle shop will be missed, as well. The revving engines day and night just made sure things were never quiet. If I’m not near you, I might actually be able to hear myself think. We wouldn’t want that to happen.
To the woman up the drive who decided to leave her "old man" in the middle of the night, you go girl! I wouldn't put up with him yelling at me like that either. Seeing you out in the rain in your night gown, pushing your four wheeler up the muddy driveway because it wouldn't start was an inspiration to women everywhere.
So, neighbors, I must say, you have made life interesting. Sometimes, I’ve wanted to call the cops on you, and sometimes, I’ve just felt sorry for you. However, never did I lose interest in watching you. Your lives are far better than any reality TV show.
I think I’ve figured out where the stereotypes might have started. I’m pretty sure it was in the country, right near my home. Thanks for the laughs, neighbors. Remember us when we are gone, and I can assure you, I won't forget you. XXOOXXOO, Al