“Is that a riding lawnmower!?”

Today I want to talk a little bit about our modes of transportation. We are going to cover some of the more creative methods of travel that we use here, but first, let’s talk about shit-box motor vehicles.

My neighbors aren’t the only ones whipping hoopdies, mind you. I had this ‘93 Del Sol that needed to be pop-started because I was too poor for a battery. I rolled it down the hill just past my house to start it. The first time, I failed, leaving my car deeper into the park than my house, sitting there dead next to the brook.

I also owned an Xterra that barely ran that I traded to a real gypsy for a similarly shitty Subaru station wagon. Allegedly, she sold my Xterra to some company that pays pennies on the dollar for four-wheel-drive vehicles and ships them overseas. This car always smelled like gas, but it ran until the day I traded it in for my first decent ride. I also had an S-10 I got for free that was pink from sun exposure. Thank you, Uncle Phil. The brakes went on it while I was driving down a main road in town. I came to a rolling stop on the grass of a local cemetery. The emergency brake was one of those locking pedals where you had to pull the handle to unlock it. I drove home with my left leg working the brake and my left hand unlocking it by pulling the handle. I made it home, somehow.

Even now, my cross-country-traveling Corolla at 210,000 miles and counting has a bunch of small problems. It burns oil. Also, I paid to have some fancy valve installed, and the thing broke within weeks. That being said, if you check the oil every couple of weeks or so and give it some gas when pulling away from the pump after filling up, you’re good. It’s also the first car I have ever had that has Bluetooth connectivity. I feel pretty fancy. I’m banking on the fact that we baby it, and I hope that it will keep going. I don’t drive too much, so the car gets its rest.

Every time I bring it in for work, they comment on the mileage. It is high, but the car still runs, and car payments are a terrible time. If there is one thing that I actually hate, it is owing money to the man.

With covering my own insecure vehicle situation for the last 20 years out of the way, let’s get to talking about how others in the park get around.

First, the Lawnmower Man. Lawnmower Man was the park manager for like 30 years. Back in those days he had a kick-ass tiny little backhoe tractor. It was the finest blue, and he really loved that thing. The only problem was it had an open top. As Lawnmower Man would soon find out, that made him a target.

The local kids would hide behind shit in the park and pelt ol’ LM with snowballs as he putted by. He would try to scrabble through the snow and catch them, but he never did. When I say kids, I mean people in their early 20s. People in their early 20s were setting up snowball ambushes to torture this old man. This living hell took its toll, and eventually LM threw his hands up, retired the tractor, and said he was done.

It has been a slow decline in the decade since he quit. He knows where every pipe and wire is in this entire place. He knows where every septic tank is as well, and he doesn’t reference any prints. It’s all in his head. Honestly, it is kind of incredible.

Now, LM rides an old-ass riding mower around drunk while chain-smoking Winstons. Living the life, man. LM is so fucking funny, and thankfully he is intertwined with the history of this place, allowing me to visit him from time to time.

Speaking of characters with sweet wheels, my man the Old Poet has a slick new Rascal scooter. He cruises around on it along with his two Shih-Tzu mixes. They just chill and roll with him. I love it. The Poet also owns 3 or 4 of the exact same car and a sweet tiny boat that I have never seen leave in my entire life here. He likes stuff. My next-door neighbor calls him “Fred Sanford” because of his junk pile. It is a term of endearment. Honest.

We also have a guy with a windowless van that is completely covered with giant vinyl stickers of bald eagles and flaming skulls and shit. It also says “I’m crazy” on the back in individually stick-on letters. To his credit, he uses his van and other beat-up vehicles to make an honest living scrapping. Furthermore, his yard is always clean, which means he is actually scrapping the things he collects.

We have another scrapper who is not nearly as clean, the Trash Man. The Trash Man has appliances and water heaters all over his yard. He used to have this old Chevy truck that was bending in half and sagging between the bed and the cab. The entire truck was also lopsided. How he made it ten feet into town without getting pulled over is beyond me. Maybe the cops just decided it wasn’t worth it.

Trash Man’s truck eventually gave out after significant use for many years. His current daily driver is an old box truck. It belonged to some dance party company, but the only letters on the side are a giant D, a giant P, and the word “Players.” He’s the DP Player. The party expert.

Trash Man is probably one of the less popular people here. His lot is a stereotypical trailer park eyesore, and we are all embarrassed that he lives in piles of broken popcorn makers and bicycles. The DP mobile makes a lot of trips here with new fridges, air conditioners, washers, dryers, and chest freezers, but it rarely leaves with a load.

We have many ways to get places around here. Even the kids get in on it. They have bicycles, e-bikes, and wheelchairs. I think they were rolling the chair down the hill, but not my pig, not my farm, as they say. What I do know is that one of the kids was whipping around in that thing chasing his friends while screaming “I’m the handicapped killer!” I initially thought he was pretending to kill handicapped people. Fucked up, right?

I was wrong. My wife pointed out that he was playing a killer who himself was handicapped and therefore was able to chase his victims down with his wheels before finishing them. A little more creative and a little less offensive if I say so myself.

That’s it! Stay tuned for the next Trailer Park Files where we go inside a tenant association meeting! Lawnmower Man and the Landscape Lady are both there too!

Until next time,

JTC