May 9, 1969
Hello Fred,
This is Harvey Olivette from next-door. Hope all is well. I’ve got a few issues, and I thought I could make them more forcefully in print, so forgive me for slipping this under your door.
I know you’re a busy guy since your career is going so well; why, just last week, you were in Washington, lobbying the Senate to rethink their funding cuts to public television. While your speech was unbelievably stirring, I, and many others on this street, can’t help but think you’re neglecting some of your responsibilities as a homeowner, and a neighbor.
I don’t want to be one of those crazy lawn people, and I’m well aware you’ve got a lot on your plate right now with your show doing so well. But it almost feels like a slap in the face when you go on TV and tell everyone to love their neighbor, yet you haven’t touched your grass in what must be two months. It’s hard for Phil and Cindy to sell their place across from you when you’re only affording the new tenants a view of the thicket in front of yours.
I’m sorry, but I’m frustrated. Maybe in the Neighborhood of Make-Believe grass mows itself, but come on, this is Highland Park. We all paid a lot of money for our places and there’s property value to worry about.
Also, if I remember correctly, you were the one who suggested we start our own KidWatch program, so the children could be safe as they played, and “playing is how kids learn” or some business. Then you dicked off and left us to put up the signs and make up patrol schedules. Come on, man! Take the cardigan off, put on your outside clothes and beat feet with us! This was your project.
And this is just my thing, but the garbage problem is happening again. You leave it at the side of your house to let it fester, right outside the window we like to leave open in the summer, and it smells. I know if I ask you in person again you’re just going to talk in your little four-decibel tone and say you’ll try to be more regular about moving them. So consider this fair warning: I’ll bring it to the neighborhood association if I have to. Can’t you just get on your little Trolley and pull the bags to the curb? I don’t have the money for a fence.
Please don’t take this the wrong way. We’re all fans, and I still fondly remember when we moved in eight months ago, and you presented us with that tray of mini-muffins while singing “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?”. We just want an effort. Rest assured, your invite to Janine’s block party barbecue still stands.
Oh, and Fred: next time you’re being intimate with the Missus upstairs, close the drapes. There’s some things a neighbor shouldn’t have to see. Or hear.
- Harv
