Who Are My Neighbors?

Who are our neighbors?

This Christmas tree, dumped off on the side of Frye Creek not .25 miles from my housal unit, speaks volumes about the people we are. About who our neighbors are. Do you think that whoever did this was a Christian, celebrating Christ's birthday?

Green waste pickup in this neighborhood was Wednesday. Today is Friday, and last night this neighbor of mine ours realized that he'd missed the pickup date. He's clearly a he -- no woman would/could debase herself enough to take her family's pickup truck and dump off a tree in a nearby neighborhood. No -- it's an alpha male jackoff.

This is tree number four -- the fourth abandoned tree I've passed between work and home on my bicycle. One was flocked. Three were the regular old doug firs while one was a nice silvertip.


I can easily surmise what occurred here. Some Elk Grovian felt like he was forced by the wife to buy a tree he didn't want in the first place. Likely mid-30s to early 40s, moustached (as pricks usually are), two, maybe two point five kids he's not all that interested in raising, but hey, he knocked the old lady up and got hitched 'cause it was the right thing to do and the next was just an accident/unplanned/whatever. He doesn't work in Elk Grove, no, 'cause there ain't shit around here for a HVAC installer/SMACNA union worker, but there ain't shit around Sactown these days anyway. Unemployment and credit cards paid for the christmas gifts. Beer? A necessity. A tree? No money, man. Yet the wife kept harassing and harassing and harassing and harassing and harassing and harassing and harassing and harassing and harassing and finally he gave in and climbed into the Tacoma, drove down to Boy Scout Troop #224's treefarm on Franklin and Laguna and plunked down $39 bucks for a goddamn tree.

God had nothing to do with his Christmas, by the way.

Two weeks have since passed since the End of Festivus, and the wife kept harassing and harassing and harassing and harassing and harassing and harassing and harassing and harassing and harassing him to get that damn tree out of the living room and he finally got around to it on a Thursday night 'cause there's no football or NASCAR on, and in a drunken fog decided it'd just be easier to drive the tree out of the neighborhood and dump it alongside a dark, unlit collector road in an adjacent neighborhood (adjacent, lest his wife notice that her tree was the one abandoned).

This is the spirit of Chrismas past...Elk Grove style.