Rummaging through a desk drawer earlier today, amidst a handful of old snow I happened upon this ancient undated "Dear Abby" clipping . . .at least a couple of decades old. I felt it deserved re-syndication. To whit:
About four months ago, the house across the street was sold to a "father and son"---or so we thought.
We later learned it was an older man about 50 and a young fellow about 24.
This was a respectable neighborhood before this "odd couple" moved in. They have all sorts of strange looking company. Men who look like women and women who look like men, blacks, whites, Indians, and yesterday I even saw two nuns go in there.
They must be running some kind of business or a club. There are motorcycles, expensive sports cars, and even bicycles parked in front and on the lawn. They keep their shades drawn so you can't see what going on inside but they must be up to no good, or why the secrecy?
We called the police department and they asked if we wanted to press charges! They said unless the neighbors were breaking some law there was nothing they could do.
Abby, these weirdos are wrecking our property values! How can we improve the quality of this once-respected neighborhood?--- UP IN ARMS
Dear UP: You could move.