Ernest Hemingway:

As Ernest Hemingway once said...
'All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.'

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

hoosier love

We live in south county - the capital of hoosierdom. This is just fine with me, as it can lead to some serious entertainment. For instance, last night Q and I were walking the hound around the neighborhood when we heard bloodcurdling screams coming from a backyard. Apparently there was a problem with a pool - an above ground pool, mind you, as hoosiers don't have in-ground ones - and two people were getting into it. We couldn't make a whole lot out through the hoosier drawl, but some phrases that stick out are 'Fuck you and your fucking pool!' and 'Jesus Fucking Christ!'. I think every other word was either 'fuck' or some variant of it. We actually circled the block twice hoping to hear more. It lasted for quite a while.

This brought to mind an incident that happened a while back. The house next door used to be a rental. The guy who owned it lived out of town. He's a really nice guy. Anyway, he rented it to a big, fat, hoosier. I mean this guy would, almost every night, stand in his back yard, sans shirt and a big ol fat hairy belly hanging out, yelling for his cat - 'Heeeerrreeeee, kittykittykittykittykittykittykitty!' and on and on. Did I mention he yelled this? It was amusing, to say the least. Back to the story. One day I came home from work and went inside the front door as usual. I put my stuff down, and let the hound out the back door, into our fenced-in yard. I caught something out of the corner of my eye. It was big and made of metal, was sitting on a cart with wheels, and most assuredly did not belong in my back yard. It took a minute, but I finally figured out it was a boat motor, as it had a propeller of some sort. I was a bit freaked out, as I had no idea why there was a boat motor in my back yard.

I went inside and called Q at work, who had to tell his boss he was leaving because 'there's a boat motor in my back yard'. He still gets trouble for it to this day. He came home, and we were both dumbfounded. I mean it was one of those moments where we both stood there for a minute or two, looking at it, before saying, 'Huh.'

Turns out a friend of the fat hairy neighbors was supposed to drop the motor off in his back yard, but picked ours instead, though my neighbor insisted he had been to his house before. He had no idea why he would put it in our yard. I suspect drugs or alcohol (maybe even meth) must have been involved. Fucking weird.

The point of all of this ramble is to somehow explain to you why I love south county. Do people in west county come home to boat motors in their back yard? I think not. Neighbors elsewhere yell, but in their backyards at full volume? Over an above ground pool? For a long time? I don't know. Every day there's something so very hoosier that happens that it just cracks me up. So entertaining.

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