The Razmataz family has lived in this house for 22 years. Across the street from us is a man who has lived in his house since day one, along with his wife. Now we are a friendly bunch, however in 22 years I've had about 3 conversations with him, and he's yelled at my kids a few times (they deserved it I am sure). He used to sit on his front porch motionless for hours. One day, my daughter's friend asked me why they always had a scarecrow on their front porch. Of course it was the man, who was always sittiing on the porch. From that point on, since we never knew his name, we called him Scarecrow. Although he seemed like a bit of a grump, I knew he was a kindly man because he walked to the bus stop everyday to meet his wife and he was really sweet to my dogs and his cats.
One day last summer, he and his wife were outside while I was gardening. They crossed the street and headed right towards me. His wife's name was Joy. She presented me with this water color of my house that she had done after she retired. She told me she thought my house was pretty and wanted to paint it.
I thanked her profusely, extremely touched and thrilled with her lovely art. They retreated back to their side and now we wave, but no real conversation. I think they like to keep to themselves. It just shows you though that you don't really know people and certainly can't judge them.