Neighbours

Sunday dinner over at my parents place is always entertaining if for no other reason then to catch up on all the neighbourhood gossip from my folks.

This past Sunday was especially amusing as my Dad is still on his rant about the 'Dirty Hippy' neighbours that are renting the house next door to them.
(You can read HERE for some background)

For those of you unfamiliar with the situation, my hot-headed, elderly father believes the neighbours are 'Dope smoking long hairs' and he has done everything in his power to make them move, to no avail. Being the determined and stubborn individual that he is, he continues to rant about them at every opportunity much to my poor mothers' chagrin.

"So Dad" I finally spoke up after yet another one of Dad's diatribes. "If you want these neighbours out so badly, why don't you just simply buy the house they're renting and then evict them. It is for sale, has been for months."

My father suddenly stopped eating his chocolate cake dessert and stared over at me, a strange look in his eye. He slowly placed his fork down on the side of his plate.

"You know Boy" Dad began slowly. "That is probably the most brilliant thing I have ever heard uttered from your lips and believe me, I have heard a great deal of hot air & babble from you over the years. Don't let anyone tell you that you're an idiot."

"Actually Dad" I responded, defensively. "You're actually the only one who ever calls me that. No one else ever does or ever has."

Unfortunately Dad was too caught up in this new idea of buying the neighbours house to bother listening to the likes of me or anyone else at the table that also included Mom, Sis and her two kids.

"Bloody brilliant!" Dad remarked again, this time more to himself then anyone in the room. "I could toss those drug addicts out on their ass and bring in 'my kind of people'. Kill two birds with one stone. Maybe make myself a couple of bucks for my troubles. Brilliant."

Mom finally interjected by reminding Dad that 'his kind of people' have probably not existed on this earth since the pre-historic days.

"And in any event, Simon" Mom continued. "Kathy and Ray are a lovely young couple. I don't want you causing them any undue trouble. They are great neighbors, I like them."

Still Dad was clearly not listening. He turned to Mom and suddenly blurted out "What's the name of the 'old Jew Real Estate guy' who sold us this place? Let's ring him up and see what the asking price is for that house?"

"Simon" Mom replied. "We bought this house nearly 30 years ago from Mr. Goldstein, I am sure he retired long ago. The company is still around but I am sure he isn't still working there."

"Nonsense" Dad responded sharply, waving his hand in the air. "Them people don't retire!"

"Don't be ridiculous Dad" I declared. "Of course realtors retire."

"Realtors?" Dad replied, sounding somewhat puzzled by my statement. "No, no. I meant Jews. They don't retire."

"Simon, I really wish you would not use such vile and prejudiced language." Mom began to chastise. "Especially in front of the kids, you know how impressionable they are."

"Who, this guy, impressionable?" Dad responded, only half listening & gesturing towards me. "He's about 30 years too old to be impressionable and I might add, not too bright to begin with! HA!HA!"

"I meant your grandchildren, they are also at the table if you hadn't noticed." Mom sighed, as she gestured towards my nephew Mikey and niece Emma, who were thankfully too busy devouring their dessert to be listening to my fathers' antiquated outbursts.

My father was completely oblivious to anything going on and still appeared to be focused on this one single idea, which would get the neighbours tossed out.

Suddenly Dad turned around in his chair and looking directly at me exclaimed;

"Boy, call them up right now. There's no time to lose. I'd call the realtor myself but them people want to talk to you for hours - they all seem to have the 'gift of the gab'.

"Who Jews?" I responded cringingly, just wanting this insane nightmare to be over.

"No, Real Estate agents, of course." Dad replied sounding completely surprised at my words. "You sound to me to be a bit bigoted, boy. Better shape up, no room for those kind of outdated attitudes these days. Don't know where you would have picked that up, certainly not around this house."


I was totally flabbergasted! I just stared over at Dad not really knowing what to respond to this. I then quickly looked over at Mom hoping she was still listening to this completely ridiculous conversation and would somehow save me from any more of it. Thankfully she did.

"Now Simon" Mom advised. "It's Sunday evening and we are all having a nice family dinner. That house next door has been on the market for sale for over a year now so you can wait until tomorrow and I'll call up the real estate office and get the price details for you. Now please, in the good Lord's name, let us have no more of this dreadful conversation for the rest of the evening."

Dad begrudgingly agreed by a grunted 'Humph' response to my poor mothers request and no more was said on the matter that night.

Later on in the week I was on the phone with Mom and asked her what had happened on Monday and if she had called the realtor to find out how much the house was selling for.

"Well Dear" Mom began. "I did get in touch with a very helpful gentleman at the real estate office and he said the list price was $500,000.00. Of course your father was no longer interested in buying it when he found out how expensive the house was."

"HAHA" I laughed. "Well hopefully Dad will now stop talking about that and finally leave those poor neighbours alone. By the way, what did Dad say when you told him the price."

"Well initially he swore a blue streak for a minute or so" Mom explained, sounding a little embarrassed. "And then all he said was 'Them people' will pick a mans pocket clean, if you give them half a chance. Tell them to find another sucker who will pay that kind of money."

I didn't even dare bother to ask who my father meant by 'them people' this time. I'm positive it was either 'Jewish people', 'Realtors' or yet some other poor unsuspecting group.

Sometimes it is better not to know what my Dad is talking about.

8 comments:

Lilysgramma said...

LOL!! Very good and funny story. Don't you love it when your parents go on a tirade about something? Loved the telling, it was delightful! Thanks for sharing!

Staci at Just Bloggled said...

Maybe you should start going to family dinners with earplugs in your pocket, unless, of course, you can lip read or your father types up his tirade, in which case never mind. Look at the bright side. At least no one threw food.

Mom said...

I'm beginning to understand why you like to remain "slightly drunk."

BK said...

I have to agree with you that Sunday dinner at your parents place is always entertaining; I am having fun just reading it. :)

Sam said...

hi there! thank for your visit. :)

Angel said...

Hehe, too funny! You never fail to give me a chuckle:-D

EuroYank said...

Keep drinking it will all make sense.

Jena Isle said...

Your Dad is a real character. I understand why you write about him. Cheers.

Post a Comment