Having thought back on all the neighbors I can vividly remember, beginning in my parent's realm; hearing the mutterings of my father in reaction to his neighbors offenses, (the construction worker;s beer bottles discarded, that one neighbor left in his yard because his religion banned him from touching them, Dad's drilling a hole through a tree no bigger than four inches in diameter in order to have an exact line separating said neighbor from infringing on our property), I left home to find peace with any neighbors, for the only reason that they were my neighbors.

One notable resident of the "house next door" was a character I will not name (to protect guilty and innocent), but will describe as a hippie in the 80's living on his mother's county cottage on at least 10 acres next to my rented suburban-style house on 3 acres. All this was 15 miles from the city of Asheville, North Carolina. My long haired neighbor was from Kansas, but he had somewhat mastered free rent from his mom, and found a way to avoid bills, and most other expenses.

It was no surprise to find this gentleman without electricity, as this required paying a bill. On occasion the bill got paid, and during one of these lapses, the local power company chose his property line closest to his mother's) house to erect a new transformer box on two half size wooded upright poles. It was large, shiny, and obtrusive to one enjoying a lovely country setting. In short: it was an eyesore, even to my crazed neighbor.

As winter set in, once again my hippie friend next door lost his right to electricity. Knowing this was for an unpaid November bill, I was quite surprised to see his house decorated in hundreds of lit Christmas tree lights, strung along the lines of the roof and framing his windows. I went over to check it out.

Lo and behold, there was a long extension cord running across the front yard and plugged in to the unlocked new box. Impressed, I knew it was only a matter of time. Despite the power company's employees discovering the cord, following it to the house, and asking him to cease, he protested vigorously that it was only for the Christmas lights.

Disappointed they could not understand his need, he succumbed to the unplugging. It wasn't until the next night, when I saw them on again, that I knew he had plied open the newly locked door to the transformer box and had his lights through Christmas and New Years. How could I not enjoy this neighbor.

Learn more about this author, Michael Aubrey.
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