Dear Mothman,
My name is Deborah Manchin. I’m a 3rd cousin to Joe Manchin so I have some pull in this state. I’m a concerned citizen of Beverly Hills, Fairmont, West Virginia. I’m writing to you because I’m at my wits end with my neighbor’s disregard for our city ordinances. It’s simply unacceptable!
First off, there’s the Johnson family, their kids ride bikes on the sidewalks constantly. Their dog, Bender, has a doghouse that does not match the color of their house (razzmatazz). Finally, the state of their lawn is war torn, to say the least! It’s an eyesore of weeds sprouting up to my ankles, an army of garden gnomes and they keep the length of grass at 3.5 inches tall. It’s attracting all sorts of unwanted pests, and frankly, it’s bringing down the property values of our entire neighborhood.
Directly adjacent to me we have the Miller’s. They seem to think our street is their personal parking lot. Their visitors park haphazardly within one-inch of the curb causing scuff marks with their tires. I’ve left polite notes, of course, but they just ignore them. I even tried talking to them directly, but they just shrugged it off with some excuse about how they’ll “only be a minute.” Well, their “minutes” stretch into hours, and I’m left fuming in my living room as I watch Wheel of Fortune. I have hundreds of pictures showing the damage caused by the tires rubbing against the curb.
Last but not least, don’t think I’ve forgotten about the Garcia’s. They’ve decided to turn their backyard into some sort of BBQ Pit. There are 2 smokers and 3 BBQ’s lined up on my fence line, and the noise of their dinner parties run until about 9pm. They bounce around more than a beach ball at a Nickleback Concert. I feel like Phish is playing 24-hours a day and every burnout in town is in their back yard. I swear, I can smell the smoke from over a mile away and it’s not BBQ. It’s a disgrace and keeps my cat Sprinkles on edge.
Mothman, I have already spoken to Mr. Townsley, the city manager, but his response was not what I wanted to hear. He suggested I “lighten up and enjoy the summer.” Can you believe it? What am I supposed to do? Should I call the authorities? Should I form a neighborhood watch? Should I take matters into my own hands? I can’t allow another summer of shenanigans in my neighborhood.
Sincerely Concerned,
Deborah Manchin
Dear Deborah,
Thank you for your impassioned plea. As a being of pure, crimson-eyed mystery, and harbinger of doom, I’m usually more concerned with collapsing bridges and prophetic dreams, but I suppose neighborhood disputes are within my range of knowledge now since I’m in the Writer’s Union.
First, let’s address the sidewalk situation. Children riding bikes on sidewalks? A truly horrifying image if you ask a cryptid. Have you considered laying down some strategically placed rakes, sand or taping the sidewalks off? Just spit balling here but it seems you have ample time on your hands for extra projects. As for Bender’s doghouse color, razzmatazz? My dear woman, the very fabric of reality is unraveling before your eyes! A mismatched doghouse is clearly a sign of the apocalypse. You should probably build a bunker in your backyard as the end is near. The height of the lawn, weeds, an over population of gnomes is close to a war crime against The Mountain State. The audacity of the Johnson’s trying to summon some sort of weed demon is a sign of disrespect. A flamethrower might be in order but check local ordinances first.
The Miller’s parking within one inch of the curb? This is a level of anarchy I haven’t seen since the Silver Bridge collapsed. Too soon? They’re practically spitting in the face of civilized society. Your photographic evidence is vital. Compile a dossier, including time stamps, wind speed, and the exact shade of the scuff marks. This is going to be a long war. As for Wheel of Fortune interruptions, DVR is your friend or just watch Jeopardy like a normal person.
Finally, the biggest offenders in my opinion are the Garcia’s BBQ pits of doom! Two smokers and three BBQs, really? They’re practically running a meat-based black market back there. The constant noise until 9PM is unacceptable! Have you tried retaliating by playing Ween starting after 9PM? Turn your Kenwood up to 11 and let the music fill the streets of Beverly Hills. That’s just a suggestion. As for the Phish-like atmosphere, maybe they’re trying to communicate with me through the power of jam bands, I’ll look into that.
Mr. Townsley’s advice to “lighten up” is clearly the work of a lizard person. Do not take his advice. Forming a neighborhood watch is a good start. Arm yourselves with yardsticks, a flame thrower and a high-end camera. Definitely keep documenting everything from every blade of grass, every tire track, every plume of smoke. The fate of Beverly Hills, Fairmont rests on your shoulders, Deborah.
As for taking matters into your own hands, I wouldn’t recommend anything too drastic. I would implore you to attend a 12-step program called K.A.R.E.N. (Kind of Annoying, Really Extra, and Needy) meetings are held downtown at the recreational center Every Wednesday 6PM. A little razzmatazz doghouse paint left on the Miller’s windshield. A rogue Ween jam session outside the Garcia’s after 9PM? I hope my advice comes with wings of wisdom.
Cryptically yours,
The Mothman