Something's Wrong With The Beaver

My wife and I have lived in our place for twenty years. At this point, we've been here longer than anybody else in the neighborhood. It's a beautiful place, quiet, spacious, nicely landscaped. Nobody thinks of our town as luxurious, partly because it's next to Newport Beach, which, on a per square foot basis, is as expensive a place to live as you can find anywhere in the country. It's pretty nice, though. I don't care how much my place is worth. I don't care if property values plummet, though I suspect they won't stray too far down. I'd never move.

Next door I have a retired Air Force O-6 who used to fly B-47s for Curt Le May. He and his wife have 5 or 6 children, all grown up and out a generation ago. He and his wife are the children of Mexican immigrants. Next to him is an old Marine Gunny, 30 years in and 30 more as a civilian DOD contractor, all in the Far East. His wife is Korean. They have kids almost as old as me. Next to them is a young, 2nd generation, longshoreman. His wife is Vietnamese. They have a 2 y/o daughter.

On the other side, the house is shared by 4 very nice young men, attending beauty college, over in Costa Mesa. Hardly even know they're there. Next to them are 4 more nice young men, only not quite so young. Kind of super-annuated skater boys. No drugs but I'm pretty sure they're filming porno in there on the weekends. We have to keep on them about parking violations and the beer bottles and cigarette butts get a little thick out front sometimes. They police them up the next morning, usually.

Across the street is a lesbian lady of color. Big corporate exec. Travels the World on business. Very down to earth. Never flaunts her material success. Next to her is an older gentleman and his wife. They are almost never there. Their children are all police officers in local communities. They spend most of their time up in Idaho, in a place with no phone or mail service, so they say. I suspect he has a military title but that it isn't used outside the compound. He and the corporate lady next door are thick as thieves. She watches his place for him when he's gone.

Just another SoCal neighborhood in the 21st Century. We all pretty much get along, just like Rodney wanted. I'm sure glad I don't live somewhere out in the middle of America, in the middle of all those Baptists and Pentecostals, with all their trashy, hateful, behaviour. I know it makes me a bigot but a person has got to maintain some standards and a little peace of mind is important when you get older. I guess what I mean is, a person reaches a stage of life when they want to be with their "own kind".