F*Bombs in the Morning

Morning in San Dimas. The sky is hazy above with just a delicate wisp of brownish-grey smog clinging to the hills. Traffic on the nearby freeway is a symphony of horns honking, brakes grinding, engines purring music to an oil executives ears.

Outside my window the dogs are greeting each other with news of the evening past. The birds are singing in their sarcastic way reminding the cat why he will never catch them. And the complex is alive with the lovely sound of F*Bombs in the morning.

No I have not purchased a sattelite radio subscription.

At least if I had I could turn it off.

It seems my neighbor's son is visiting them from out of state. I do not know all the details and frankly after this mornings tirade I am quite sure that I have no desire to have the blanks filled in for me.

Suffice it to say. Said son is having marital problems. He has an assortment of children two of which are here with grandma and grandpa. The rest are back in Georgia, at least that is what I have heard.

He arrived sometime yesterday. And apparently he failed to realize that there was a three hour time difference between California and the east coast. As he was quite obviously working under the assumption that was 9:00 AM here as well as in Georgia.

The entire neighborhood woke up to the joyous sound of him exchanging four letter expletives with his beloved Mrs. And this was not a whispered conversation between two concerned adults but a conversation conducted at decibles that have been know to cause permanent damage to the ear drums of pets and young children.

Apparently my new (and I pray temporary neighbor) feels that he has been wronged. It was difficult to translate at first but it seems that not only was he using the F*Bombs in anger but also to describe what he felt his wife had been doing with everyone in town. Before you feel any sympathy for him he also in response to her admitted that yes he had been as he put it "forced to use violence" in response to her behavior which resulted in the law deciding that he needed to spend some time in a government run facility.

That was the basic conversation for the better part of a half hour before his father finally decided that he had alienated enough of the neighbors and removed the phone from his ear.