Thursday, February 6, 2014

A lovely day in the neighborhood.

This is M. Emmett Walsh.
The face might seem familiar because he's been in more than 10,000 movies and TV shows.

He's not only a terrific character actor, he's also my neighbor.
He lives in the house behind me.

He's funny.
And likable in every which way my other not-so-pleasant neighbors are not.

Recently, I was in my garage on my recumbent bike (a reminder, never buy anything from the NordicTrack company).

While I was pedaling away the pounds, OK, the ounces, I heard this -- verbatim -- in the 120+ decibel range from the house next to Emmett's…

"Fuck you."

"No, fuck you."

"Oh yeah, well, fuck you."

"Is that right, well, fuck you."

"Fuck you, you drunken fuck."

"I'm a drunken fuck? You sit on your fucking ass all day long, you lazy fuck."

"Fuck you."

"No, fuck you."

That went on for quite a while.
And then I heard a woman's voice.
She was on the phone.

"I had to take the phone outside the house. The boys are fighting again. Oh, I don't know, something about the remote control."

Did I mention the woman is in her 70's?

And the "boys" in question are both grown "men" in their late 40's who live with their mom?

Pretty glamorous, huh?


Jeff said...

You sure you're not confusing it with a meeting to present creative to the account team?

Anonymous said...

sounds like that scene in Nebraska. what was great was the swag of the brothers who lived at home.