Crazy People IV

Note: the names have been changed to protect the guilty and the crazy.

Will the craziness ever end? One evening my telephone rang. It was Adam.


"I need your help. My wife Eve is in jail."

"What!? What happened?"

"Well, it is all a big mistake. Eve and I were fighting and she beat me up. Then she threatened to kill herself and I called 911. The police showed up and after they questioned us both, they hauled her off to jail."

"Why did they do that?"


"Well, she did not deny she had hit me, and I have a small scratch on my forehead. So they took her off to jail. She is being charged with a felony, and her bail is set at $50,000. You gotta help me."


"Well, I don't have any money. You promised me you would not call 911 any more. Remember the last time you did that, the police came over and wanted to see Eve? She wasn't there, and the police came back during dinner and demanded to see her to see if she was alive. You promised me you would not call 911 any more."


"What am I supposed to do when Eve threatens to kill herself?"


"You might just try talking her out of it. Every time you call 911, the police get involved. Haven't you figured that out yet? By the way, what were you and Eve fighting about any way?

"Oh, I don't know. I might have mentioned to her that I no longer loved her and that I loved our next door neighbor much more than I ever loved her. And then she just up and hit me!!"

"Hmmmm. I wonder why....."

"Okay. But what do I do now that Eve is in jail?"

"You might try waiting and seeing what happens."

"Oh, I can't do THAT. I am responsible for Eve being in jail, and I have to get her out."

"All right. So what do you think you are going to do?"

"I am going to call the district attorney right now and tell him what a big mistake has been made."

"Adam!! I am not sure that is such a good idea. You haven't done real well in calling people lately. It might be better to wait a while."

"Oh, I can't wait. No!! I am going to call the district attorney right now. Bye."

And with that bit of news, Adam was no longer on the line.

I waited about two hours and called Adam back.

"Hey Adam, how are things going?"

"Just terrible. Did I tell you my wife Eve is in jail?"

"Yes... about two hours ago you told me that Adam. Are you okay?"

"Well, I am okay. But I put Eve in jail. It is my fault. And the district attorney won't talk to me."

"Hmmmm. Why doesn't that suprise me? Why don't you get some sleep and call me back in the morning."

"Okay David, but I did get ahold of the district attorney's secretary. She says she doesn't know anything about the case yet. They don't even have the paper work yet."

"Look Adam, there is NOTHING more you can do right now. Why don't you go to bed and go to sleep?"

"My wife Eve is not going to sleep. She is in JAIL!!! And it is all my fault. I feel like going out and killing myself. But then who will feed the cats?"

"Okay Adam, I see your point. Why don't you just stay up all night. Then you will be in real good shape to face tomorrow."

"Oh I don't know David. I am so tired. I think I might go to sleep."

"Well if that is what you really want to do Adam. I will leave that decision with you. YAWN... I know I am really tired Adam. I am going to bed now. Goodbye."

When I woke up in the morning, there were several messages on my voice mail. Guess who they were from? They were of course from Adam. So I called him.

"Adam, this is David. What are the visiting hours so my wife and I can go and visit your wife in jail?"

"I don't know David. I will have to get back to you on that. The secretary to the district attorney said she will call me back just as soon as she gets any information on my wife's case. I have to stay right by the phone in case she calls."

"Well, Okay Adam. It sounds like things are all under control."

"But my dear wife Eve is in JAIL!!!"

"Yes, we have already covered that. She is in jail. I know that Adam."

"But you don't understand David. It is my fault she is there. I was the one that called 911. Then the police came and took her to jail. I feel like hanging myself. What am I going to do?"

"You are going to wait for the secretary of the district attorney to call you on the telephone. That is what you are going to do Adam."

"Oh yeah. Right. David, I have to go. She might be calling me right now."

"Okay Adam. Call me back when you find out the visiting hours, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Goodbye."

Several hours went bye. Adam did not call. Finally I felt like I should call just to see if he was still alive.

"Hello Adam. Hey, did you ever find out when visiting hours are? My wife and I would like to visit Eve in jail and encourage her."

"Oh I don't know when the visiting hours are. But you can't visit her in jail. She is OUT!! It was a miracle. The district attorney's secretary called finally. They had just gotten the paper work. I told her it was all a big mistake. I was NOT pressing charges. She finally asked me what I wanted to do. I told her, 'drop the charges against Eve.' And so she did. And now Eve is out and is on her way home on the bus. It is a miracle I tell you. A miracle."

"Wow. That is great news Adam. And you did not have to post bail or anything."

"No. I think Eve is coming in right now. David, Eve is home. I gotta go."

"Just don't call 911 any more Adam."

"Oh, I know better than that. I won't. I gotta run David. Eve is HOME!!!"

Later I called back and talked briefly with Eve. She had a rough night in jail. Nobody threatened her and she was treated real nice by everybody, but still she was in JAIL!! And she vomited everytime she ate anything because she was so stressed out. She was glad to be back home with Adam, and hoping that they could work things out.

Why do I think that there may be some more adventures before they get everything all "worked out?"

People are acting crazy.
Try to act like you are sane.

David A. Youngs

Crazy People, part 3

I got a call from "Jim" (not his real name, I don't need any law suits here.) He had to move the motor home I gave him.

Why? Well, he moved it into the trailer park without first clearing it with the park owner. When she came out to see what was going on, he and she got into a big discussion. And of course Jim started shouting and waving his arms around because that is his modus operandi. The owner of the park, whom we will call "Ruth" because she is definitely not ruthless (pretty nice play on words, huh?) decided she had had enough of Jim's attitude. She told him he needed to move his nice motor home right on out of her park... and do it pronto.

At first, as Jim was telling me this, I was sort of sympathizing with him, but then he got to the kicker.... he had never paid her his rent for the month. No wonder she was already predisposed against him. So, he did not pay the rent, he moved out his tiny travel trailer, and moved in my huge motor home. Which doesn't fit in the space where he put it... And then he got into a fight with his landlady. Hmmmm.

Now lest you think that Jim got a good deal from me when I gave him the motor home, you should know that it will take thousands and thousands of dollars to fix all the myriad things wrong with it. I did not bless Jim, I cursed him with a motor home. It is a money pit.

And during their very animated and loud discussion, Jim had the audacity to try to tell Ruth how she should run her trailer park. It is no wonder that Jim was asked to move. I mean... three strikes and you are out of there.

Yes... this is the same Jim that threw all his wife's things out into the yard. That Jim. And now Jim was asking me to help him find a new place to live.

When I asked Jim what happened to his travel trailer, he causually mentioned that it had burned. Burned? Well, he told his wife "Angela" to set it on fire. And for some strange reason, for once she actually did what Jim asked her to do. So it was partially burned inside. Jim was bemoaning the fact that she had set it on fire.

"Only because you told me to!" was Angela's response. "Yes, but you never did anything else I ever told you to. Why did you have to do that?" Nobody could ever quite explain why Jim asked Angela to set the trailer on fire.

I don't know, but I don't really think I will be able to find a new place for Jim to live. I mean, what is he going to tell the new prospective landlord?

"Well, I am crazy, so I burned the travel trailer I was living in and then without telling the landlady I moved in a huge motor home that was 30 feet long instead of the 18 feet the travel trailer was. Oh... and I 'forgot' to pay my rent, and then the land lady and I had a big fight, and now I have to move.... so.... ummmm.... could I move into your park?"

If you were the landlord, what would YOU say? When Jim asked if he could park the motor home back up in "my" yard, I said "NO!!!" I don't own the place. And I don't need any more crazy neighbors. I have a couple of those already across the street.

"How about if I just park it on the street in front of your house?"

"NO!! It is illegal and you will soon be talking to the police explaining to them why you are parking illegally on the street."

So Jim is trying to find a place to park. I mean, another place. Meanwhile he is still where he was, down in Ruth's park. She won't accept his money because that would be in effect agreeing to allow him to stay there. And Jim IS trying to find another place. But... it is a strange thing--nobody will let him move in. Isn't that odd? Maybe he should use Ruth for a reference.... yeah, that would probably help a whole lot.

Some people really are crazy. Don't be one of them.
David A. Youngs

Crazy People, part 2

There is a picture of me to the right in which I am looking incredulous. Or maybe just plain crazy. But I really do not have the challenges that one couple I know has.

I will call them Bill and Angela because that is not their real names, and if they ever read this I do not want a law suit.

Well, I went to see Bill. He is a feisty little fellow only slightly thicker than a broom stick. He seems to be always in perpetual peripatetic mode. I mean the guy can't even stand still. He is always vibrating and jumping all around. And he is always complaining about something. If it isn't taxes, it is the police. And if it isn't the police, it is about the people around him, and how utterly unfair life is, and how he always gets the small end of the stick, the raw deal, life is never fair, blah blah blah.

He came home and his wife Angela had been there and gone. She had moved a few things around in his trailer, and of course this really set Bill off. He just came unglued. He started heaving the offending items that were on "his table, his chair, his counter" out the door into the middle of the lawn. Books, a back pack, a bottle of bleach, all sorts of things.

Just about the time he finished, up walks Angela. I don't know where she had gone, and I guess it really did not matter. But she was extremely angry to see her things being cast out into the yard. And she and Jim started having words about it.

"Why are you throwing my things out."
"Well you left them on MY table."
"It is my table too."
"No... I paid for this trailer (I may have not mentioned, but they live in a tiny trailer) with MY money, so it is MY trailer."

I left them screaming at each other out in the yard with Angela trying to rescue her backpack because "it is full of stolen things I have to return to campus security." Enough said.

Two hours later, my friend John and I came back to see if Angela and Bill had killed each other. No... but things were rapidly getting worse.

Angela decided that if Bill was going to throw her things out in the yard, maybe she should show Bill what it felt like. So... she tossed out some of his things into the yard. The stereo was scattered in broken pieces all over the lawn. Bill had just bought it a couple of days before. John and I could not help it -- we started laughing. Bill was NOT AMUSED. Not in the least.

"I suppose you and your wife NEVER had an argument."

"No, you don't understand. Ha HA ha The reason I am laughing," replied John doubling up with paroxysms of laughter, "is that you remind me ha ha ha of exactly what me and my wife ha ha ha used to do."

Finally after several minutes John could control his laughter for just a moment. "Hey, what are you going to do with your NEW stereo system?"

"It is trashed, I am going to junk it."

"Do you mind if I have it?"

"Oh yeah, you can have it. Sure."

So laughing as we went, we gathered up all the scattered bits and pieces. We even found the speakers broken up and in the trash can already.

I asked Angela if she had enjoyed throwing out Bill's things into the yard.

"YES!! I did!" she replied very emphatically. And by the way her eyes gleamed when she said it, I think she really did enjoy it.

John took the pieces home, and bungee corded and taped things up. He fitted all the little internal cable fittings back together. And believe it or not, it sort of worked. Well, He had to realign the head on the cd player, but the changer actually worked and everything. All the screw holes were broken, but it is amazing what shipping tape (and I mean a LOT of shipping tape) and bungee cords can do. So for 4 hours of hard work, John had a free stereo system. It definitely did not look very good. But he could load up to five cd's at once. Of course the sound quality wasn't quite the same, so he stuffed some material into one of the holes on each speaker boxes to "equalize the bass" and muffle the rattling. And then, believe it or not, it sounded mighty good.

Of course Bill wanted his stereo back, but John wasn't going to have any of that. "You told me I could have it, and now I have invested hours and hours of hard and challenging work into realigning the head, and basically rebuilding the entire system from tiny little pieces. No way are you going to have it back. Besides if I gave it back, Angela would just throw it out into the yard again."

It is still sitting in John's computer room blasting out love ballads and country and western music. And it it mostly clear wrapping tape and bungee cords now.

Occasionally John will go past Bill's house to see if there are any other salvageable things out on the lawn. Who knows, he might just get lucky again.

People really are crazy. Don't be one of them.

David A. Youngs

Crazy people part one

The neighbors across the street are feuding again. I went out this morning and the one directly across the street said, "don't have anything to do with the people that live upstairs in that house. (she was pointing) They are all 'crack heads' and they egged my car last night."

I assured her that I did not even know the people who lived up there. And there was a fellow scrubbing his car with soapy water by the curb. His complaint was that the eggs took off some of his primer paint. Well maybe the eggs "took it off," or maybe it was the stiff brush he was using to literally scrub the car. I don't really know.

But the first lady was really upset at her next door neighbor. I tried to lighten up the situation by pointing out that she didn't even need reality television because she could just sit on her porch and watch all the neighbors. This did not really console her. She was yelling at the top of her lungs how she had nothing to do all day and was "just going to sit at the edge of her property in a chair and watch the neighbor all day."

When she called the police to report her neighbor egging her car she said that they were "too busy looking at my tits to take me seriously" and had done absolutely nothing about the situation. I did not know exactly what to say about this last remark. I mean if I agreed that she had breasts worthy of looking at, she could easily have me up on sexual harassment charges. On the other hand, if I said, "I don't think they were looking at your tits," it would be a direct challenge to what she had just stated and she was already very angry. So.... I just bit my tongue and mumbled "hmmmmm."

Fortunately for me another guy came walking down the sidewalk that she seemed to know and off she went to tell him about the horrible mean evil upstairs neighbor. I took this opportunity to cross back to my side of the street and quietly withdraw from the fracas. I could still hear her screaming at the neighbor upstairs at the top of her lungs again.

Fortunately my "next door" neighbors seem more normal, and are not prone to being crazy. But believe me, there are plenty of crazy people out there. I hope you are not one of them.

Sincerely,
David A. Youngs

I am crazy about mental health

Recently I noticed something--most of my friends are what you might call "edge dwellers." They are living on the edge of reality. Okay, they are certifiably crazy. One of them whom I will call "Bob" has only one basic reaction to everything in his life--he gets very angry. For example, one day a telephone employee showed up and began to do something with the telephone wiring outside Bob's apartment building. Bob immediately got very angry, ran outside and literally chased the telephone worker off the property. His explanation: "nobody is going to fool with my telephone wiring."

When I pointed out to Bob that the telephone company actually owned all the wiring up to and including his telephone box, and therefore the employee of the telephone company was actually working on his own wiring which was within his responsibilties, and he was probably fixing something that needed fixing so it would no longer be a problem, Bob began to cool down a little bit. But by then the telephone repair man was long gone.

One day, somebody parked in what Bob asserted was "his" space to park in. Oh my! Before the hour was up, he had gotten into a major word fight with the "offending" neighbor (who threatened right back) and it escalated to the point where the police were called. When they did not immediately show up, Bob got REAL mad and called them up and threatened he was going to KILL the neighbor. They showed up pretty quickly after that.

In fact, after a very short while, the police began to know Bob on a first name basis. They did not particularly enjoy coming out to visit with Bob, but his anger necessitated repeated visits. There never was a dull moment around Bob because you never knew what would trigger his next anger explosion.

Bob used to claim that external things "made me mad." In reality, nothing can MAKE us angy--we choose to become angry. And if we can choose to be angry, we can choose to be at peace. As long as Bob never accepts the blame for his anger--as long as he always says it is some one or something else's fault--he will never learn to control himself. Bob can't hold a job, because when a boss points out something he needs to change, immediate ANGER!!!

This one response is all that Bob knows. I enjoy Bob, but his anger has alienated my wife from ever having Bob around us again. Bob needs an anger management program like yesterday. But he won't go to one, because "it's not my fault. They made me angry."

It is like the patient that told his psychiatrist that his mother was the cause of all his problems. The psychiatrist wisely advised "well bring your mother on in so I can work on her then!"

I finally figured out that I really can't help Bob. He is going to continue becoming angry all the time. I wish I could fix him, but I can't.

If you have anger problems, they don't go away unless you do something about them. Get professional help!

Peace everybody,
David A. Youngs