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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic

My little town has a certain weirdness of creating B-list or maybe D-list famous people. The town itself is known to be a great place to raise kids, blah, blah, blah. Personally, I believe that to be marketing,as my little block has a person on death-row and guy arrested and in prison for rape. Certainly not listed in the town write ups.

I reflect on the current state of my old neighborhood and famous person born across from my house. This is odd but true story and looks into the world of reality TV.




(A saga of the decadence of dumbness.)




Friendship seems to have no observable biological necessity(unlike parental love, necessary for humans to grow, and erotic love, necessary for humans to reproduce), and not much of a marketable appeal (as opposed to the millions/billions of dollars worth of things sold to people trying to better their marriages or parenting skills), yet without such a form of love as friendship our societies would be unbearably dull and alienated from one another.

My town's Motto, Where friendliness is a way of life:

I laugh every-time I drive by my town motto on the sign announcing a bald face lie about my little town. I think the original town fathers who came up with that saying were most likely drunk and had ironic sense of humor. Don't get me wrong, the town isn't the worst in America, but America has some myths that they have to pass on, and the town's motto is one of them.

During my walks, I have seen neighbors who still have not introduced themselves or talked to other neighbors,ever. This could be all caused by the wonders of the cell-phone, but I doubt it. I still converse with neighbors who are now in their getting up in the stratus of old age. One neighbor lady is ninety and brought her quiche and noticed that her kids don't come by often, Her caregiver is a nice Flippino lady who then becomes a surrogate daughter and nurse.

It was a call from an ex-neighbor on death-row in Tennessee that shocked me on how friendliness is something that exists in memories and is no longer in vogue. A mere myth of long ago time, the concept of friendship seems remote and ancient as if belonged with 8-track tapes players sold at a garage sale. Bill ______ is on death-row for the murder for hire of his wife and Mother-in-law, but ironically he is still more friendly than any of my current neighbors. Is he guilty? Maybe. Maybe Not! He had a rough childhood a foster child who seemed troubled the day I met him. I swear that I saw him kill baby bunnies, but my memories could be playing tricks on me. He claims he was set up, and his lawyer slept through his trial. I worked with a couple of people that slept through work; one was promoted; one was fired, and one promoted herself. A lazy lawyer is not so far-fetched.

Bill has been known to stretch the truth as a kid, but this did occur from certain cases. Cockrell v. Burdine, No. 01-495. The U.S. Supreme Court declined to decide an appeal by the state of Texas of a Fifth Circuit Court ruling that granted. Texas death row inmate Calvin Burdine a new trial on the basis of ineffective counsel. According to several witnesses, Burdine's attorney dozed repeatedly during his original trial. The Circuit Court held that "unconscious counsel equates to no counsel at all," and that Burdine was therefore "denied counsel at a critical stage of his trial." (New York Times, June 4, 2002) My advise is not to commit a crime in the south, as their motto seems kill um and let God sort it out.

The older neighbors are still more friendly the newer neighbor who have yet to say hello to anyone, as manners is totally out of style. There is man who now has lived here a very long time, yet he walks his dogs and never spoke once to anyone. He does look depressed, as he has most likely given the dogs from his kids who promised to walk the dog but they never ever have. AND SO IT GOES. If he ever stops to talk, I might say to him, “YOU SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN CATS, AS THEY SHIT IN A LITER BOX AND LOOK AT ALL THE FREE TIME YOU COULD HAVE HAD.”

Maybe humans were never that friendly? If you think about human history that is a lot more wars than nations getting together to hug and love each other. If we could have asked those Indians after showing the Pilgrims how to survive they most likely would have called themselves SHMUCKS for helping those ungrateful bastards. From the website, http://www.caffeinedestiny.com/tigiving.html  “

Although Indians and Pilgrims joined together for a meal of Thanksgiving in 1621, the Indians didn't fare so well at other Thanksgiving observances. In 1641, a raid against the members of the Pequot tribe in Connecticut was very successful, and the churches declared a day of "Thanksgiving" to celebrate. During this feast, the decapitated heads of Natives were kicked through the streets of Manhattan. Many towns in New England held Thanksgiving days to celebrate victories over the Natives.” Talk about your ungrateful bastards.

Even religions, seem to bring divides, and hate in the long run. Being a boomer meant my memories are now getting greyed and hazy. My first big memory being home from kindergarten and seeing President Kennedy's head got blown off. This topic was not covered by Dick and Jane,books. It did shake my little mind up and ruined that happy dumb innocence. Being a kid it was first government conspiracy theory that still seems to be rattle around my brain.

Strangely, the whole conspiracy theories have become a cottage industry that plagues the Internet as if it was a mold spreading around your kitchen. Now, I look around and could state that the Internet is a conspiracy to keep people stupid and placid while the supreme court allows Billionaires to bring back serfdom, but that sounds too far-fetched.

How could the public be so dumb to watch the Kadashians and piano-playing cats, while rich people loot the system by getting tax breaks and special deals for building sports stadiums for their odes to egos? Shouldn't I worship the rich and hope they trickle some of their goodness on me? Ronald Reagan said this was going to happen, along with his plan to help the Taliban beat the Russians along with them becoming AL Queda. These same people (friends/ allies) later would fly planes into the world trade center to show their thanks. President Ronnie's approval of selling missiles to Iran to spread the word of democracy and funnel money to another group of desperadoes also was shining example of his brilliance and misguided friendships. How could that guy ever be wrong? Friendships are tough, especially for the long term, as I remember saying something to a friend when I was five or six years. Andy Cropper my best friend kicked me in the nuts. After that I decided that friendships could be dangerous. I remember that kick to the nuts, still. AND SO IT GOES.

 Strangely working-class people are still kicking themselves in the nuts when they vote the Republican party. Both the Tea-party and Chamber of commerce still quote Ronnie and his theories, and yet I am still waiting for them to work for me. The great leader Reagan somehow told me that rich people would trickle money and jobs in my direction. I am sure any day now, one the Kardashians is going to call and ask me to become their personal shopper. Of course, I am not sure how to shop for Bruce Jenner, as I am not sure what gender, he is now? However, it may be the Kardashians ladies have driven him to mass confusion about his sexuality. How could the Kardashians deal with a Midwest lifestyle?

Snow up to your ass and no ski slops would certainly bring them down. My town is incredibly boring and normally those types of celebrities couldn't find my little town, even if their chauffeured limo was programmed only to drive around Illinois. However, strangely my little town has celebrities who have fled the boring beige lifestyle of this town. One of the first is a guy, who was a B-actor that married a girl from a sickening sweet show called “Little House on the Prairie.” Did you guess Bruce Boxleitner? Certainly not Oscar award winner, but what the hell he got out of this town and played make believe for a living, not such bad gig.

 However, you know one day I discovered that I had been living right next to a current celebrity and never knew it. I watched from the living room in Mom's Cape code house as an old lady pulled up to our house and stared at the house across from us. The house once the most modern style of a ranch fell into disgrace. It hit me that I had seen this old lady before, something smacked my memory that she lived in that house. Yes, it is Mrs. Steinmetz. Holy crap, I was five years old when they lived there. “Mom, I think Mrs. Steinmetz is back and looking at her old house.” “Huh? What?” “Mom, I think it is Mrs.

Steinmetz.” In those moments of Mrs. Steinmetz walking up the sidewalk, I had a flashback of childhood. Mrs. Steinmetz had kept the house so that it sparkled and even cut the grass in short shorts, which caused the neighbor men to sit on my porch and watch her complete the task. Even when selling the place, Mrs. Steinmetz picked the perfect replacement owners. The Steinmetz had even sold it to the Zebs who were also anal and suffering from OCD. The Zebs were even more anal then Mrs. Steinmetz as they cut their grass with scissors to get it perfect.

Ironically, the Tallas were the most offended. The Tallas Mom kept their house in perfect shape and kept on saying how they hated this guy. I felt sorry for the guy, as he was still working but only could afford baloney. The Tallas had lost compassion even though most of their lives they got something for nothing. Funny, thing they got their house remodeled when their son was smoking pot and hid a still smoldering joint in the wastebasket. Mom called me at work to report that the Tallas attic was on fire. For my little town that is excitement. Pot smoking is normally something that doesn't pay off, but for the Tallas family it paid off, big time. Even though the second floor hadn't been finished the insurance company cut them a nice check and they got a full remodel.


The Zebs disliked the neighbors, especially the Tallas family who were on food stamps and car collection was housed not in a garage which they didn't have,but piled into the driveway into the back yard. The Tallas car collection was not something that one would covet, as most cars had giant holes in them, like even the daily driver had no floor boards. So if they ever gave you a lift, you had to make sure that you held your feet up. The Zebs therefore, decided that our neighborhood was white trash and moved to a subdivision close but far away from us. They broke the house seller rule of selling a house to someone who would treasure the house in the same manner. The guy they sold the house had never owned one before and in the beginning, he had kept it up to reasonable standards, but one he lost his career as a photo-engraver he gave up. He committed many suburbanite style sins, like he didn't cut the grass and let the dandelions take charge. His gutters now had trees growing in them, he told them to all f-off.

Sadly, the guy who doesn't cut the grass hasn't got any help and he couldn't afford it and when Mrs. Steinmetz showed up to see her old palace. It was in bad shape, but would get even worse.Mrs. Steinmetz walked up and re-introduced herself, and my Mother perked up. Mrs. Steinmetz first bitched about her old house, and my Mother defended the guy, whose parents had died and who had lost a good job. Mrs. Steinmetz seemed not to understand that her house was not a shrine to be maintained.

Then came the story of her life, which had taken some very hard knocks.

Mrs. Steinmetz, used to hang out with my Mother and the skuttle butt of my Neighborhood was she had eyes for another man, not her husband.Yes, I overhead my Granny chastising my Mother for hanging out with Mrs. Steinmetz when she drove to see the handyman she had crush on. She had never closed the deal, as it would have been scandalous for its day, and she chickened out according to my Mother. I could still see the disgust on my Granny face, when my Mother left for their time cruising for a hot Italian roofer. The blight of the 1960s housewife before the sexual revolution.

Ironically, the Steinmetz moved to a better area, and we lost touch for long time, until Mrs. Steinmetz returned to looking at her old home. I had remembered that she had a dog, a boxer who slobbered all over me when I was five. I stared crying, as I was now covered in dog spittle, and my Mother told me just to shut up. It hit me that I used to play with Mrs. Steinmetz two adopted twin daughters, but after that the family had disappeared into the past. I noticed even at five that Mrs. Steinmetz treated them a little different than biological mothers. They seem left more alone and forced more times to eat their lunch on the front stoop. I could tell it was her old house not a friendship that brought her back to the old neighborhood. I have a theory that people sell to houses of people that will keep them the same; they believe that since they lived there it should always stay the same.

Mrs. Steinmetz knocked on the door, and I opened it, and she said. “I am Mrs. Steinmetz do you remember me.” “Yes, I do.” “I remember your twin daughters.”

“I had a son and daughter after the twins were adopted.”

“Oh, hi Corky.” Mrs. Steinmetz walked up to my Mother whose cataracts make hard to see that well. “How are you?” “Hangin in there.”

Mrs. Steinmetz then complained about the man's house that once had been hers. She next recounted that she had rough years taking care of her husband, who had developed Alziheimer's early. Bill had got Alzheimer’s at 59, and he passed away at 67. “I was not prepared. I had to work nights at a local grocery store bake shop to receive health benefits and to earn extra money.”

Now Mrs. Steinmetz smiled, and something brag worthy to talk about: “OH, My daughter took me to Europe, and she is on the show, Bravo Housewives of Orange County. You must have seen, Vicki Gunvalson.

“Huh?” “What show?”

  My mother watched TV, but cable had too many channels and nothing on. I had never heard of Bravo, and my father had refused the first cable TV offer, since he considered it a sin to drill a hole in his house for the install. I only saw cable TV when I went on vacation. However, the old man was dead, and I had even worked for the cable TV company and got the full package of stations and still nothing was on.

“Well, Mrs. Steinmetz, we will watch it, next time it is on.”

Now curiosity got the best of me and next week we found the station and turned it on and found a tribe of people strangely different, yet vaguely familiar in their behavior. These women were foreign in dress, like fashion models, but they all started drinking heavily and the screaming and the fighting started. The dialogue went something like this: “Don't be a bitch. No you're a bitch. I never said that your husband was cheating on you.” “I hate you.”

This is the latest version of the show and the ladies still hate each other.

It's time for Part 2. Are you excited? Are you nervous? Do we need to get out the healing hands? No,



























The last picture here is Mrs. Steinmetz daughter, Vicki. I applaud her for having her own business, but wonder how someone can get their mug on TV, as this also makes her money. However, I am not going through the Bruce Jenner sex-change just to see myself on the boob-tube. Wait that should come next for Bruce?


Lizzie also just wants Tamra to know that the whole "you're too old to have a baby" was just because she thought Tamra had already accomplished so much. Tamra's response -- you don't know anything about me so don't talk.


These women are listed at friends, but they fight like cheerleaders trying out to be the number one on the team.

I am not sure but this is a dismissive role model for young women, as between the fighting and drinking the whole show seems to belittle women into being bitchy Barbie dolls. I have seen men behave badly, but that was on a prison lock up show. These women have money and jobs, husbands kids yet all hell breaks out anytime they are together.

Well, they have better houses, but strangely friendship doesn't seem to be something humans are good at, even the rich ones. In fact, we may be getting worse at it. As for friends, I hug my cats and pet the neighbors' dog and know who my real friends are.

List of B-stars or lesser ones from my hometown: Notable people if you are grading on a curve.

  • John Ankerberg American Christian evangelist.[8]

  • Bruce Boxleitner (Actor, and science fiction writer) Best known for his TV roles, such as John Sheridan in the TV series Babylon 5, costarring in Scarecrow and Mrs. King, and other work, including the film Tron; attended Prospect High School[9]

  • Ian Brennan, co-creator of Glee; Prospect High School alumnus

  • Lee DeWyze, winner of American Idol Season 9; attended Prospect High School

  • Brian Gregory, men's basketball coach at Georgia Tech

  • Dave Kingman, baseball player, (Chicago Cubs, San Francisco Giants, New York Mets); attended Prospect High School[10]

  • Tom Lundstedt, baseball player, (Chicago Cubs, Minnesota Twins); attended Prospect High School[11]

  • Jennifer Morrison, actress (House, Star Trek and Star Trek Into Darkness (Motion Picture - Winona Kirk)); attended Prospect High School

  • Pari Pantazopoulos, professional soccer player (Chicago Fire); attended Prospect High School[citation needed]

  • Ben Weasel, lead singer and guitarist of band Screeching Weasel

  • Vince Mullins, lead bass guitarist and triangle enthusiast of the band V-Mull and the Chorizo Chompers

  • Karen Zambos, clothing designer; attended Wheeling High School[citation needed]


It is shame that they missed this man: REINHOLD WEEBE as he was creator of NIGHTCOURT, a very funny show. Mt. Prospect also had an almost famous rock band, the SHADOWS OF KNIGHT.


Enjoy your little town for what it is worth. Try to be friendly and to all a good night. AND SO IT GOES.


Submitted: November 03, 2014

© Copyright 2021 wily geist. All rights reserved.

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