Nice Harley

We returned to the property where the neighbors are very vocal, to explore the view.

Suddenly, the roar of a glass-pack motorcycle ripped up from Neighbor No. 2's house.

My friend Lana has a Harley Davidson. It's the cutest beasty ride, perfect for her. It is red and black, and goes potato-potato-potato-potato-potato-potato-potato-potato.

After a few minutes, the potato-potato-potato stopped. And runnnnnnnnnnnn replaced the momentary silence. Last year I used a chainsaw to cut down a rotten tree in my backyard. That runnnnnnnnnnnn sounded just like my Poulan.

Well, I hope the fellow likes the property. It is a very nice piece, and a very nice neighborhood - ignoring the neighbors below. They go away sooner or later. It takes a lot of effort to go out of one's way to make a raucus. I think.

Oh, speaking of which, there was a third commotion coming up from Neighbor No. 2. How could I forget to report such amusement! It was the whirrrrrrrrrrrr of a street bike. I know this because I drove a Yamaha YSR-50 in college. For those of you who are not too familiar with motorcycles, it was a little red, white and blue rice rocket - the little brother of the Ninja. After the whirrrrrrrrrrrr stopped, one of the vocal neighbors' wife giggled audibly, saying "That's funny!"

She was right. It was pretty funny that grown adults were behaving like a couple of second graders dejected from not being included in a game of kick-the-can. Hah!

Oh, excuse me Mr. Neighbor. That was supposed to annoy me? I don't live here, so it didn't. But I'm sure the other neighbors minded it. Keep it up, and see if you'll be hearing from them. Sooner than later.

Yeah, they were very funny all right.

Nice Harley though.