Instant idiots, just add my neighbors

So who are the idiots? Let me rewind about 22 years. When I first moved into my house, there were two very nice old people next door. Never made any noise, never caused any trouble. They did shout to each other, but old people do that some times. One weekend they had relatives down from up north. I nicknamed them "The Loud Family" because they were... loud. Obnoxiously loud. The whole time they were down all they did was sit on the porch and shout and cuss to each other. They were usually shouting over the screaming toddler that was milling around their feet. They came down a few times more, screaming kid (or kids, I'm not sure) in tow.

Fast-forward to late 2006. The last of the old couple died and left the house to their daughter, whose only interest in the house was to sell it. This was at the end of the housing boom, when prices began dropping. When she realized that she couldn't sell it for any worthwhile value she decided to make it a vacation home.

Then one night in 2007 a huge pickup truck and several cars pulled into the driveway and front yard, spilling out a gaggle of Michigan hillbillies. The screaming toddler from 22 years ago was now a shouting redneck with screaming toddlers of her own, and loud drunken brothers/cousins/friens to keep her company. If they weren't around she also had her german shepherd that barks at EVERYTHING with a pulse.

When they weren't shouting into the house from the street they were sitting on the porch drinking beer and shouting at the TV, or the kids, or each other, I don't know. I also don't know what they did for entertainment, but it involved leaving and entering the house about 20 times an hour through a screen door with a self-closing arm that slams the door shut. This would go on until well after midnight.

The leader of the bunch - the alpha hick - must have throat cancer or something because every few minutes he'd walk outside, cough up a thick mouthful of lung butter, and spit on the ground. He'd do this for a few minutes at a time, several times an hour. Then he'd put the cigarette back in his mouth and go back inside.

So to recap, for ten days the mantra from next door was "Waahh! Slam! Woof! Woof! Slam! Wahh! BLAH-BLAH-BLAH! Slam! BEELLLCCHHH! Hawhawhaw! @#!%%$! Slam! Hwack-P-tooey! Slam!" This in a deed-restricted retirement community. I fully understood how Squidward must feel.

Finally, at about 1:00 a.m. Thanksgiving morning I was awakened to the thumping of bass speakers emanating from the monster truck next door. Four of them were sitting in it, listening to the stereo, drinking, laughing, and judging by the tiny orange glow that floated from seat to seat, probably getting high. After an hour I had had enough and called the police. They seemed less than interested but said they would send a car out. The two most expected things happened next: the hicks went inside and the cops never showed up anyway.

O.K., so the next morning it's Thanksgiving and I wake up at 7:30. I know the Deliverance cast next door should be very hung-over, but they would be sleeping too heavily to know it. I couldn't let a good hangover go to waste. Besides, I felt fine. Seemsed like a nice morning to clean out the tool shed. A recycle bin full of bottles and cans makes an aweful racket when you drop it on a carport floor. Especially if you drop it ten times in a row. I also had to make sure that darn shed door was closed tight, so I slammed it a few times. Then every couple of minutes I made sure it didn't creep open by slamming it again. I alo made sure my hammer still worked by beating it on some wood. I didn't want to waste nails, so I just assumed it would do the job. Well, it didn't take long to clean out the shed, but my bedroom (closest room to their house) was looking aweful dusty. Better VACUUM it. Nothing like the roar of a vacuum cleaner at 8:00 in the morning to remind one of the sins of drugs and alcohol. Sometimes I just set the vacuum in the open window and let it run. After that, the car needed vacuuming too. You might have guessed, my carport is on the same side as their house.

So you're asking why I never went over and said anything. First, they don't seem like the type that would care. More like the type that would be even louder afterward. Second, If I said something and then took it to the next level (calling police, or reporting them to the neighborhood authority), they may very well key a calling card into my car before they drive back to the Ozarks. I also didn't think they'd be down for a WEEK and a HALF.

They finally left, and only came down twice after that. Much quieter both times.

So this afternoon I came home from work and saw two cars in their driveway. Looks like they're back for a while, likely a week.