An Open Letter that Contains Some Untruths

Dear Mary,

Hi, I'm Michael, your next-door neighbor to the south. You know, in the barn-like blue house. I'm still a bit new to the neighborhood, so I'm trying to reach out to all the good folks I haven't met yet. Actually, you're about the only one I haven't met, but not because I haven't tried. I know you know my girlfriend quite well, but I sort of feel like you don't know my name and have no interest in ever learning it. It might be helpful if, say, your car wouldn't start and you wanted to say, "Hey Michael, could you give me a hand with my car?" I have seen you in the yard a few times, but you refuse to speak to me. I wonder why that is?

In any case, the girlfriend tells me that you're a bit odd, but I'm still open to having a different opinion. I've seen all the cars with Jesus bumperstickers line up on the street when you have some sort of church meeting at the house, but that's not so weird. I do think it's uncharitable that these good Christians think it's ok to blockade our cars in our driveway, but whatever, that's maybe not your fault. And even I think it's a little weird that you're married but your husband lives in another state and just comes home for visits. I'd love to hear more about that, like what you do when he's home and such.

You may not know this, but the neighbors talk about you. They tell stories about how you're scared to death of coyotes and bears and maybe even all the whitetails running up and down the street. I myself am a little tamped at the deer after they ate the flowers off the porch, but hey, we're living on their street, really, don't you think? I mean, back when it wasn't a street, which was only the 70s or so. Maybe they're still getting used to the idea of development.

Anyway, a lot of people think that because you're the weirdest person on the street we might somehow be better off without you. I don't know.about that, but I did fall in with a bad group of pranksters one day and pull a few little tricks that the group thought might make you consider putting your house up for sale. And while I do know some people who'd love to buy your house, I don't really feel that strongly about your leaving unless you continue to not shovel the snow off your sidewalk, which is really starting to chap my butt.

But I feel bad about the tricks, so in the interest of being neighborly, I wanted to say I'm sorry for howling like a coyote underneath your bedroom window. There are not coyotes, as far as I know. Though there may be. And although I'm sure you already know this, that wasn't a pool of blood on your back deck. I hope it came up. Finally, I did put all those Blair Witch piles of sticks and stones around your house and over your doors and on the front hood of your car. But it's just stuff from the neighborhood, so just toss it out in the back yard and everything will be fine.

If you want to keep living here, it's cool by me. I do think you ought to tell your husband to come home or get out for good. And if he does come home, tell him he can borrow our snow shovel.

Warmest regards, your neighbor

Michael Moore

Missoula, Montana