Meet Flattop Mike

OH BOY are YOU in for a treat tonight, folks.

Down the street live Doug and Gloria, their daughter Marnie, and her husband Flattop Mike and their 3 kids. VERY nice people. A little...ok a lot Arkansas.
These people are the real deal.

Doug is a "collector", and has a yard full of scrap metal and "antique" treasures under a series of tarps. Yup. Tarps. The likeness to the set of Sanford and Son is so uncanny, I secretly hum the theme song when I see Doug and Mike out in the yard.

I used to refer to them as the hoarders, but that was before real life Hoarder Henry moved in and set up camp across the street. Since then, I've been without a good nickname, until yesterday.

(Speaking of yard crap) I had a garage sale this weekend.
I'd hoped to sell my old kitchen table, the extra baby crib, and our red sofa, but people were in more in the market for items from the "crap we really should just throw away, but we'll hang onto it since we're having a garage sale next month" department. I have no complaints, as I made an easy $200 off that department. It feels so good to get rid of stuff. I love my home, but one of my biggest complaints is lack of storage. With no basement, no attic space, no laundry room, no kitchen pantry, and all of our bedrooms occupado, we often feel like we are bursting at the seams of this place. And since we aren't going anywhere, some of our junk had to go. Simplify. Purge. Simplify.

So at one point, my yard is full of people so awesomely fit for blog fodder, Kasey looks at me and says, "WHY do I not have my camera right now?" I take a look around, and realize, WOW.
Yeah, it really was that great. I'm sorry to say we missed our opportunity. One guy carved his initials in my lawn when he tested out a lawnmower. Seriously. There's a big letter D in my side yard.

So while we are laughing away at the missing teeth, beer bellies, "fixin' to's", and Razorback neck tats, I see Flattop Mike coming up the street.

"Kasey. Get your camera ready. I PROMISE you will not be disappointed."

Flattop Mike is classic. I think yesterday was the first time in 6 months that I have seen him with a shirt on. He's a close talker, and he taps your arm or nudges you if you appear uninterested in whatever story he has to tell...and he always has a story. He will tell you in e-v-e-r-y conversation that he used to be a cop in Little Rock.

Yesterday, there was no shortage of stories from his days working for the Fuzz, and we were the lucky prisoners in his captive audience. And now YOU can reap the benefits of our torture.

If any of you ever wonder if I am exaggerating at all when I blog tales about my neighbors, I think this video should clear things up.

Behold, I give you just a taste of Flattop Mike.
I call this video, The Fuzz.



You. Are. Welcome.