Kicky & Boomer

I'm moving to the new house soon. And when I do, I will leave behind a cast of characters in my neighborhood that I will miss. Not because I have made life-long friends here, but because the folks that live in my current 'hood are a funny lot. Ha-ha-funny and peculiar-funny. So this post is paying tribute to the most memorable ones of the bunch.

I call them the Grumpsters. A retired couple who live down the street in a fancy mod house, I have literally never seen them smile. They take a walk around the neighborhood early each morning, sour expressions on their faces. They look like they can't stand anybody, including each other, as the man ("Kicky") always walks on the sidewalk and the woman ("Boomer") always walks on the opposite sidewalk or in the middle of the street. No sharing of sidewalk space! We are TOO GRUMPY for that! When Nordic Boy first saw Kicks and Booms, he made it a personal challenge to get them to break the Grump Face. So each morning (he often leaves for work at the exact same time as they take their walk), as he walks to his car, he calls out a hearty "'Morning!" at them as they walk by. Many times they are not two feet away from him on the sidewalk. People, they have NEVER BROKEN the Grump Face. Never! I have lived in my apartment for six years! And Nordic Boy has persisted. "'Morning!!!" Not only do they not return the greeting, they don't acknowledge that anyone is speaking. Not a shifted eye, not a turn of the head, not a faltering of step. Nada. One morning, I happened to be taking a walk, and I turned the corner to the surprise of almost running into Kicky. Like, we almost kissed because we were face to face so fast. In my surprise, I said "oh! hello!" and he was so surprised that he said "hello." Ah-HA! I got him to talk! It was still grumpy, but apparently full-body contact is needed to get Kicky to cough up a greeting.

Now you get why I call them the Grumpsters. But why "Kicky and Boomer," you may be wondering. Well, let me tell ya. Shall we start with Kicky? Kickster gets this moniker because, if you don't get your garbage cans off of the curb by the morning after garbage-pick-up day, he has been known to walk down the sidewalk, KICKING CANS over. Angrily. Cheery, no?

And Boomer. Dear, dear Boomer. Boomer who wears a jaunty raspberry beret in the winter and a Mary Engelbreit style straw hat in the summer. One of Boomer's favorite pasttimes goes like this. She walks under tree branches, stops, claps her hands, then waves them around her head (angrily of course), and makes loud sounds like Peter Boyle's monster in Young Frankenstein. "Aaaaehhhh! Aaaaeehhh!" she yells. What does this action mean? It means that Boomer is taking the time to (get ready people, I'm not making this up) SCARE BIRDS OUT OF TREES. Yes indeedy. Because why should there be birds in trees? Don't they know their kind ain't wanted in these parts? "Aaaaaeehhhhh!"

So there they are. Kicky and Boomer. The Grumpsters. After I move I will see them no more. Maybe , on my last day, they'll respond if we yell out "Goodbye!" to them instead of "'Morning!" Maybe we can offer to have him kick us right out of the neighborhood. Or have her scare me out of my "nest." Bye, neighbors.

Kiss the rings, I'm out.
Librarian Girl