Harmony County

2011 & 2009 Winner of "Best Humor Column" awarded by the SC Press Association

There goes the neighborhood

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The day of the big move dawned clear and bright. I know this because there was a familiar pounding on my front door just at dawn. When I opened it there were two deputies there, who were to make certain my move out occurred.

I greeted them with my traditional law enforcement hello, “I want a lawyer”. They assured me that they were not there for the usual reasons, but that the sheriff wanted to guarantee I left town. As an afterthought, they added, “safely”.

The moving crew showed up a bit later and we got on with the physical aspect of the migration. That is to say, we filled the truck ala ‘blivid’, e.g., ten pounds of …, in a five-pound bag.

The house that I am moving into is a bright yellow. Lemons are yellow, a canary is yellow, the ‘no-pass’ stripes in the road are yellow, but this house is YELLOW. It is so yellow that blind people can pass by and tell you it is yellow.

In the town where I am moving it is used as a geographical point of reference as in, “Where can I find a good Irish restaurant?” The reply is, “There is no such thing, however there is a good Irish saloon. Just go three blocks north from the yellow house and make a left. Go halfway down the block and when you see a journalist getting heaved out the door, that is the place”.

When the crew and I got there, waiting was one of my sons and his boy and a few of his friends. Where it took us six hours to load up it took less than an hour to unload. People carrying my junk were coming out of that truck like a platoon of Marines coming out of a landing craft. The downside is that now I am living in a seven-room storage container.

Over the years one has a tendency to accumulate ‘stuff’. For example, when my kids ask themselves, “What are we going to get ‘old da’ for his; birthday, Christmas, or “Talk Like A Pirate Day” (September 19), a bunch of light bulbs come on and a universal conclusion of “a sweater” is reached. Accordingly, I have sweaters that went out of fashion in the Carter Administration.

Another item is ‘veteran underwear’. I do not know why it is so important to hang on to the skivvies I wore when Pat Sullivan won the Heisman in 1971, but I still have them. I guess it is a guy thing.

I was hoping for a neighborly reception from the folks that live around me. You know, a covered dish of say Lobster Thermidor or Beef Bourguignon, but I was disappointed. No one stopped by and the only recognition I got of me moving into the block was an overnight springing up of ‘For Sale’ signs in their front yards. The addition of, “Distress Sale” really hurt.

I guess the old saw is right, ‘Your reputation does precede you’.© 2012 Jim McGowan

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Written by harmonycounty

April 12, 2012 at 4:42 p04

Posted in Americana, Humor

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