trailer park life

Some Trailer Parks, are like a bowl of Cereal. “What aren’t flakes, are fruits and nuts”..

~ Ron Walker ~ 28 Comments

There are some good, and some bad trailer parks that a person could live in. This one? A movie title sums it up, “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly”.

We are located on the very front of the park, next to one of the 3 small entrances to the park. Our double wide sits with the end where my office is, facing the main highway. Looking out our front door across our yard 20 feet, you’re facing the narrow gray gravel street into the park. The gray gravel is another story, altogether.

I like to come into the office around 5 or 5:30 am, boot up the computer/s, sit and have a cup of hazel-nut coffee, and relax. There is nothing to see, as it is still dark outside this time of year. The only light is a soft blue glow of two illuminated keyboards on the desk. Just enough light to keep me from tripping over something. I leave the monitor off, until I’m ready, because of its harsh light.

“What aren’t flakes, are fruits and nuts”.

It’s quiet this time of morning, perfect time to relax for a bit as the world wakes up. You grab it while you can, here in the cereal bowl. We call it that, because it’s the easiest way to describe the occupants out here, “What aren’t flakes, are fruits and nuts”.

Then, someone stirs the bowl.

At 5:20 am or so, whoopee man comes to the exit out front, presumably, to go to work. He earned his nickname from me, because his souped up, redneck, loud truck, sounds like a gigantic whoopee cushion that some giant just sat on. If you live in these parts, and don’t have loud Flow-Master exhaust, your nobody. At 5:30 am Thumper comes by. What kind of upbringing teaches you to play thumping music, as you drive through your neighborhood before daylight.

5:45 am, All is quiet for a short time, unless David has awakened, with a craving for coffee down the road at the convenience store. Yes, there it is, the unmistakable blat, blat, blat sound of his Frankenstein Mower. No muffler and firing about every third revolution, with the occasional backfire for good measure. At least it has headlights, of a sort.

Picture before we moved in. You can see the cut through on this side of pole.

At 6 am, the lady in the red car pulls up right on time, to drop her grand daughter off for the loud school bus with the hideously bright white and yellow strobe lights on top. I don’t think I will ever get a Christmas card from her. I stopped her from driving through my yard to get to the mailboxes, it had made a huge muddy rut, before we moved in here.

It’s like a choreographed play, repeating itself over and over. Everyone knows their part, you can nearly set your watch by them. Or, I’m stuck in the movie of Groundhog Day, along with Bill Murray. At least I’m not wrapped in a blanket, living under some bridge. There are many, far less fortunate than I. 

The World, is not on fire, calm down.

Plus the surprises, and entertainment can be a gold mine. Imagine raking up your leaves, and burning them in a small pile at the time. Next thing you know, you have 15+ vehicles all around your house, along with firetrucks. Including the Chaplain truck, I still haven’t figured that one out. Last rites for the leaves? Someone, thought the world was on fire and reported smoke, so every volunteer fire-fighter for miles around races to a 2-foot wide pile of leaves. Thus, they each get $30+ from the government for “calling out”. 

At least the last couple months have been quiet in the park, no police chases, no fights, no fires. The surrounding areas? Insane. Of course, Spring is just around the corner, that’s when they thaw out and come back to life.

Comments always welcome,

They say every village has it’s Idiot, Why break the tradition.

~ Ron Walker ~ 18 Comments

It’s 5:30 am, I am awakened by sounds like the maintenance helper going by on his pieced together riding lawn mower. It’s still dark out there. One girl on the back street already threatened his continued existence,  if he woke her up again at 5:30 am to cut her grass.

On the second lap past our place (he is making a circuit of the main street that runs through the park like one large block). I get up and go to the office to peek out. There he is on lap three, big brimmed hat on his head, there is a very light misty rain falling. He actually has headlights on the thing. No muffler to speak of, but lights. He stops the laps and starts driving up and down the front road where the mailboxes are. My neighbor comes out of his house looking for the noise. I’m sure he knows what it is, before he looks.

I grab the cell phone when he was making another pass a good bit later around 6 am, so I can record the craziness, just in case he gets squashed on the roadway. He always rides down to the station for coffee in the mornings. Now it was still pretty dark, the camera made it look lighter, but you can see the streetlights are still on. I’m not sure what he was trying to do this morning, maybe charge up the battery on his mower by riding it around? That should be a waste of time with the headlights going.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lB-Gpe_EN7E

In the video, you see him going up the wrong side of the highway. You can also hear him a good way off, at the start of the video. He is idling most of the time, but you should hear it when he accelerates.

I have now dubbed him “Daredevil David”. This is the same fella that stands over a septic tank with a shovel, scooping it into the bed of a pick up truck, while smoking. Nothing more daredevil, than standing over a huge pocket of methane, while your smoking.

He’s a nice enough guy when you talk to him, and always helpful. He just has his own quirks, like many of us. I am told, he has had 4 DUI’s in the past and is banned from driving. So he uses the mower on the highway and the shoulder for transportation. I remember having to arrest a man once, for driving intoxicated on a riding mower. It always reminds me of the story about George Jones the deceased country singer, when he was supposedly arrested for the same thing.

I think we all should pitch in for a new muffler for his birthday. That, or dig a wild animal pit.

Comments always welcome,

It’s so hard to say goodbye. (without smiling) Toodles to the Troll.

~ Ron Walker ~ 15 Comments

There are songs about, “It’s hard to say goodbye”. I can’t say it applies to this instance. It seems the Troll, is retiring. If your not familiar with who the Troll is, just search the blog for troll. The resident manager came by yesterday with a printed page telling residents, about him retiring, that she will remain the resident manager. He won’t be taking calls anymore,  one of his sons is taking over the park.

Happy Retirement!

Here’s hoping she wasn’t thinking that I was going to be sad or anything, I was doing my best not to break out in a big grin, kind of like getting that rock out of your shoe finally. It was sweet of her to hand us a Christmas card though. Yea, I mentally checked

it for money as I opened it. After all I have put up with here, I figure maybe they owe me. I guess I was feeling a tad snide as I closed the door. I stood there thinking how strange it is, on one hand they make sure they pass out official looking letters, advising you of rules, Then they do something so stupid and out of left field, like paying one of the tenants $50 to use a shovel, and scoop off the top layer of poop from the septic tank and toss it in the bed of a pickup truck, instead of hiring an official pump truck.

Not sure if they are planning some type of retirement/going away shindig, Of course, some of them out here may throw their own party, in celebration of his leaving. I can’t close this without a few memories of the old boy

  • The day he was very rude to the mother-in-law when we first moved in.
  • The day after we moved in, and I cussed him out for being so pushy and cursing in front of Michelle and her Mom.
  • The day he had walked through the yard ahead of me, then came back to ask if my dog bites, he was asking about the ceramic dog, just under the edge of the trailer, THAT, is some bad eyesight.
  • The day he came out to clean the edge of the drive and burn the leaves, but he managed to park one tire on a burning pile of leaves. That was a loud moment.
  • The best? And funniest. The day he was actually trying to be friendly and stopped outside my fence. It turned out he was in a good mood and wanted to compliment me on how my yard looked. He asks, “Did you have your trailer painted?” I look over my shoulder at the light green algae that had started to grow all along this north side. “No, but I did pressure wash it last year.” I replied. Apparently he was trying to be nice for a change. I had been told he can’t see very well, He thanked me for being a great homeowner, fires up his mower, and with a wave he’s gone. I stood there watching him trundle down the road on the mower, his straw hat pulled down firmly on his head. I hope I’m still that mobile at 82 years old.

You can never tell, the next person may be worse than him, and we find ourselves wishing he was still around. Now I will have to retire my Troll picture I use in posts sometimes.

Comments welcome, have you ever been glad to see someone go?

You never know what will work, even unintentionally.

~ Ron Walker ~ 19 Comments

Is this a real Witch?

As they say in the South “Who’da Thunk it!”

We moved in 2 years ago, naturally we were greeted, and constantly invited to churches in the area. We politely declined. I was a little worried about the neighborhood, after my good neighbor told me, that maybe I shouldn’t park Michelle’s Harley on the side of the trailer. He said it would be no surprise if 3 people drove up late, loaded it on a trailer and took off. I told him I’d hate that, but it was fully insured. No ones touched it so far. Thinking back on it, the past year has been really quiet.

It wasn’t until about 2 weeks ago, while talking to the owner that used to live in our trailer,  I learned we are “Devil Worshipers” according to what he has heard,  That explains the quiet, the cessation of people knocking on the door late, wanting change, or use the phone. As they say in the South “Who’da Thunk it!” After I stopped laughing to the point of almost passing out, I asked him where did that come from. He related he didn’t know the origin, only that the man down the street that is always in the church, “Had heard some things”. The word is to steer clear of us, we probably do satanic stuff. They know I’m an ex-cop, someone else’s rumor, has bestowed on me the rank of high priest. Just don’t bother “them”. Be nice, and polite, they can cause bad things, best to just leave them alone. That’s the gist of it.

Apparently..

October 2016 (last year) was our first Halloween, so we set up for the grand-kids, or any trick-or-treaters in the area. Michelle likes to decorate all out when she can. We always invited the kids friends over for a bonfire when we lived on our own land. So, to be in the spirit (no pun intended), we had 3 foot Frankenstein and Dracula, plastic illuminated figures in the yard near the porch. There were spiderwebs on the porch, a large motorized Gargoyle, motion activated, that talked and moved his wings. A couple skulls with blinking eyes, Candles, Silver Goblets, a large sword, with the table set up like a palm reader. We thought it festive and cute, everyone else thought we were for real apparently. Maybe Michelle dressed as a Witch (which she pulls off really well) didn’t help…  In hindsight, had I talked her mother into dressing up as a witch and sitting on the porch, maybe we would be the only ones here in the park now.

Lawn chairs, and hot-dogs on sticks

Now in the country, in the South, in a trailer park, that can be good, or bad. On one hand, these people are highly superstitious, and fearful of the unknown. Since we have not been burned to the ground, or seen evidence of protesters in the road out front carrying signs, inviting us to burn in Hell, they still speak to us and wave, I guess we are safe. That’s good. On the other hand, if the place catches fire, we can look for people showing up with lawn chairs, and hot-dogs on sticks. Not good. Michelle has been wanting a pygmy goat, I guess now would be a weird time to have one as a pet, wandering the yard. Think of the rumors!

No Kool-Aid for me thanks, I’m driving.

This area, in and around the park for miles, seems to be afflicted with crazy people. I’m sorry, that is an old, outdated term, and I mean no slander against someone suffering mentally or emotionally. I spent 8 years working around people with mental health problems, I know the sadness it causes. Anyway, there are numerous calls in a 2-mile radius of us regarding suicide attempts, emotionally disturbed, or overdose.  Maybe a study on the water is in order. One small church down the road, apparently has a Jim Jones/Guyana wannabe. He is strongly suggesting, that his congregation consider signing over ownership, of their properties to the church. Excuse me for being normal, but I think I’ve seen this movie, and it didn’t end well.

To sum my life up for the last year, I live in a trailer park, I’ve had a massive heart attack, I’m married to a Witch, I’ve been socially promoted to some type of high priest, and both of us are Satan worshipers. It’s probably a good idea that we were busy this year, and missed doing anything for Halloween.  Should I walk around the park from time to time swinging some type of incense burner and mumbling to myself? Nah.

Comments always welcome,