Gut Rumbles
 

November 03, 2009

There goes the neighborhood

Originally published June 22, 2004

I have a new family living in the house next door to me. They moved in on Sunday. That house has changed hands four times since I moved into the Crackerbox. It should have a revolving door on the front.

And... you know what? It's a BLACK FAMILY!!! That's right, folks. Rabid, racist, redneck Rob has black people living right next door to him now. Oh! The HUMANITY!!!

A drizzling rain started falling this afternoon, so I went outside to scatter some fertilizer on my lawn. I saw the New Kid Next Door, who appears to be about 12 years old, swinging a golf club in his front yard. He was hitting whiffle balls at red flags he had planted all over the yard. He had a pretty good swing, too.

I watched him for a while and then walked over to introduce myself. His name is Kevin and his daddy won't let him hit real golf balls in the yard. I told him that I thought his daddy had a fine idea, because I didn't want an errant shot knocking out a window on my truck. But I also asked, "Would you like some real golf balls? I have some in my garage that I'll give you for free. I won them in tournaments and they're not the brand I like to play. You can have them if you promise not to hit them in the yard."

He agreed and I gave him three sleeves of brand-new Pinnacle balls. He was impressed. "They've never been hit before, so save them for the course," I told him. "You don't need to be playing with shags when you go out for the real deal." He thanked me and went to show his newfound loot to his daddy.

I hope that boy hits every one of those balls long and straight. I also hope that his daddy doesn't think I'm some kind of deviant, attempting to lure young children over to my house with free golf balls.

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