Memories of the Trailerhood.

I never thought I would say it, but I miss the Trailerhood at times. I don’t miss the stress from the owners of the park, but I miss all our friends and neighbors, and the fun characters that dwelled therein. There was a flavor found there, that just isn’t present in a quiet neighborhood. So, was it really the park? Or the owners of it, and the stress of the abode we dwelled in. Would I go back? I don’t think so, it just isn’t for me. Having been a cop all my life, I was constantly on edge due to the things that occurred in such close proximity.

There were people that would give the shirt off their back, if they could. Neighbors that loved our dogs, a couple behind us that were so pleasant that it made the whole experience bearable. I miss seeing them huddled in heavy coats on their back porch at daybreak, in the freezing cold, for a smoke. They finally stopped smoking. They were together, husband and wife. The boy next door, who had a dog, and worked nearly all the time. Never failing to bring something home, as a treat, for our 2 large dogs. The greatest guy, you’d ever want to meet.

I sit here on my quiet street this Tuesday morning, and miss being able to look out the office window at the busy highway that seemed so full of life. The entertainment as a low speed pursuit ensued down the highway out front, sparks flying from bare rims on the roadway. The children gathering out front near the mailboxes waiting for the school bus. In five years, we watched many of them come and go, grow older, and then disappear as they started driving to school.

Then there was redneck Johnny Reb, who flew the confederate flag in his front yard. He won a trip to jail after arguing with his female neighbor and threatening to kill her. All because he didn’t like her dogs barking. So he placed a burn barrel next to her fence, and burned all sorts of obnoxious items in it, plastics, feces, paint. Then after losing both legs from the knees down due to diabetes, decided to drive his fast electric wheelchair through the park like a madman, in the rare snowstorm we had one year. Nearly sliding into the four-foot deep concrete ditch out front.

Lest we forget “YouTube Boy”, and his mother, who were constant reminders of crazy antics and a total lack of commonsense. Last I heard, YouTube boy was in a mental institution, right where I predicted he would be, awaiting his movement to an adult penal institute.


We rescued “Peppy” who was the ancient long haired Chihuahua that lived at the lady’s house two doors down. You could always hear him screaming on the porch, to be let back inside. It sounded like someone torturing an infant. Now he does his screaming here in our yard. “Granny” as she was known, held Sunday school classes on her front porch once a week. She had suffered a mild stroke, and couldn’t stay by herself any longer. This event, necessitated her having to move in with one of her daughters, who didn’t want Peppy coming along. So, it was either the shelter, where the old little fella would surely be put to sleep, or we take him in. Granny cried when she gave him to us. She can always visit him any time, but we haven’t seen or heard from her. Perhaps it’s just too hard for her to see him again.

I think of David, the maintenance man, who would scoop out a septic tank with a shovel into the bed of a pickup truck, for a measly few dollars, to pay his rent. Or wake you at six am with his Frankenstein mower transportation, as he drove around the park looking for limbs. Or the time he put his “girlfriend” on his latest three wheeled contraption, and she headed straight for our trailer as I sat there looking out the window. She eventually crashed next to the woodpile just outside the office. I don’t think I will ever forget the shocked look on her face, leaning back trying to hang onto the crazed contraption, feet flailing about, eyes wide open and shouting obscenities just before coming to rest next to the woodpile and fence.


And let’s not forget, upon moving, I probably lost my title of High Priest of our cult. Bestowed upon me due to Halloween decorations the first year. By the church fanatic, who was found to have Satanic ritual books in his safe, upon his passing.

All in all, it was an interesting time, and there are those there, that I miss, and wish the best. Sometimes, even hard times generate good memories.

Comments, welcome.

Going to get soggy around here. Hurricane Sally.

Sitting here, waiting to see how bad the winds might get. The rain is picking up a little, and a light breeze swaying the trees. It’s darker outside that the cameras show. But they are built for low light conditions as well, so they ramp up the exposure where they can.

Predictions of 39mph winds, which we’ve seen in thunderstorms around here, but there may be some shingles that go AWOL. I’m live streaming from here all day, so if it gets worse, or something really bad happens, we may have a record of it. I’m hoping the trees hold up, given their record of losing large branches lately, I’m a wee bit nervous about today.

Plenty of traffic outside for a big storm headed this way. Of course most of it can be attributed to our crazy county education system, thinking it would be safe to send kids to school today. Many other counties cancelled school for today.

Stay safe, if you’re in the path of this storm. I’ll be around.

PS: In 2020. Covid-19, Near War, Asteroids fly-by, Riots, Hurricane in Alabama.
“Who the hell, is playing Jumanji!” Please stop.

Fleeing Rednecks and crashing Contraptions. (Trailerhood)

I haven’t had anything to post about lately regarding the Trailerhood. That changed last week with a couple of incidents that were rather exciting.

Not sure what to call it, but the fence stopped it.

After finishing building my new computer, I was busy installing software. Hearing what sounded like a lawn mower running out front, turned out to be David’s girlfriend learning to drive his “Contraption”. That is the only description I can think of. It looks like he welded the frame of a bicycle onto a flat plate of steel, to which he installed two electric wheelchair wheels.

On the flat plate, he has a 10 HP gasoline engine that powers the rear wheels. A US flag on a long slender plastic stick. On the handlebars, a small black LED flashlight is attached with plastic zip ties.

She had just turned around and headed back towards my direction when I grabbed my phone and snapped the first shot from my office window. I thought it a great opportunity to share with you his Contraption. She had gained speed, as evidenced by her hair blowing back from her face. As I composed and fired the next shot, I realized the look on her face, and could hear “Oh Shit” being screamed over and over.

Notice her panic and hand open on the handlebar.

I should have kept taking pictures, but at that moment, she gained more speed and veered straight towards me. At about 20 feet away with legs kicking and repeating her expletive over and over, she veered to her right, barely missing the large railroad timbers used to protect the yard.

My money on her impact zone, was for the firewood pile. I would have lost the bet. By some miracle of panicked luck, she missed the woodpile, missed the Harley under the blue cover, and ran squarely through a 2.5 foot space into the fence (such as it is).

She wasn’t injured, and we extracted her and the “contraption” from between the woodpile and Harley. Odds were against her to start with. On a contraption with 10 hp, one front brake, that she didn’t even have her hand on (as seen in the picture). The throttle was a homemade one so you pulled the handle grip (right side) outward as if pulling it off, to accelerate.

Fleeing Rednecks

If that wasn’t enough fun, two nights later I walk into the office and glanced out the window due to a weird screeching noise. Passing by on the highway out front, was a pickup truck scrapping along on it’s frame with 2 police units close behind. They had used spike strips and blown out his front tires a long time ago. He made it about another 100 yards to the elementary school and pulled off the roadway. They apprehended him, and his truck exploded into flames.

Looks like things are looking up (or blowing up) around here. I’ll see all of you later, with hopefully new material. Until then, stay safe.

Comments welcome,

Sunday, Life in the Trailerhood.

It’s eight am. All is quiet as a gentle breeze wafts the smell of burning dog sh–, I mean, poop, burning in a 55 gallon barrel from three units down. I can’t understand for the life of me, why she does that. Unless she has some twisted affinity for that sick smoky odor. Then I remember, this is the lady I met at the mail boxes once. If you missed that post, it’s a must-read.

Looking out the window of my office into the neighbors’ yard, I can see a yellow and white Cat apparently rummaging through the grass for insects. A stark contrast to the beautiful pink roses 10 feet away. Probably dropped off here by some heartless soul. The cat just meandered down the area between the fences of 4 units, so the area now sounds like a humane shelter on full alert.

Whiskey Girl

However, the day is sunny and beautiful and I have my office critters keeping me company. Reboot is in her box on the short file cabinet to my left. Whiskey Girl, my pet rat of 3 years, is lounging between the printer and wall on her stuffed toy. She goes to sleep there at times on the toy. Yes, she’s spoiled.

YouTube and Netflix, lord help me..

The self-quarantine continues, day after day. I think I have seen everything to see of value on Netflix. I’ve taken to watching YouTube, lord help me. Have a great Sunday, stay safe and be well. I’ll be here, “One step ahead of the Reaper”.

Okay, maybe it will be getting interesting around here soon. I just observed a Harley leaving out, driven by someone actually wearing “Colors” of some biker club. Then a small white car that sounded like a large bumblebee, riding on four of the orangest (is that a word?) wheels I have ever seen. Think four giant fluorescent orange life-savers on a vehicle as wheels.

Comments welcome,