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The phone rang. I picked up. It was Carl once more. Carl does this all the time. Somebody should take that man's phone. He says "Howdy." One word followed by complete silence. Carl does this a lot.

We-Carl, I, others-live in a small, quaint row of homes. Everyone knows one another so Carl thinks this communion, this accidental nearness allows him take control of communication like Carl is the friendliest Mussolini in history.

So what did he have to tell me this time? Passionately he tells me to come over; he wanted to show me something. Subterfuge bounces off him like a trampoline. I walked to his house

Carl's accommodations are about as unrestrained as Carl. Example: his yard usually displays seasonal decorations. Winter is just about over and so what does he have propped up? A large, inflatable flower. Gaudy, swaying, it welcomes me. The best neighbor ever opens the door before I am able to ring the doorbell. grabbing my shoulder he back towards his front yard. Carl stares upward. I look up. We're both looking up. The sun is bright but my near future is not.

"Do you see that?" he asks. Not really, I say. "I put up a gutter cover." Great. "I love it". He tells me the cover stops garbage from clogging everything, which limits how often I have to clean it."And he, for once, was actually onto something.

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