I've managed to survive, occasionally even make good friends, but mostly, I am not a neighbor kind of guy. It seems there is always some misanthropic troglodyte who thinks they are God's gift to mankind. They come over, drink your beer, put their feet on your furniture, somehow finagle an invitation to dinner from the wife, and grace me with their moronic rhetoric. Or they think we should have a neighborhood barbecue and I should host.

Regardless, it is one thing or another and like the cat who invariably seeks out the non cat person, they try to attach themselves to me on a regular, even daily basis.

I despise living in neighborhoods. I loathe them. But I don't loathe people. I enjoy visiting and having those whom I choose to, to visit. My idea of the perfect lot is ten square acres with a house in the middle. I entirely agree with Robert Frost as well. "Good fences make good neighbors". Mine would be 10–12 feet high, possibly topped by Barb wire and cover my entire perimeter.