End of the Cletus Era

In August, the remainder of the Cletus family moved out of their home across the street. It wasn't pretty. Evidently, they were going through foreclosure, and did not go away happy. They ripped slats and part of the railing off the porch so they could move larger pieces of furniture, I guess. I wish I'd gotten better pictures, but oh well. You probably get the idea.

Cletus and his Daisy-Dolly clone stopped by while Daisy-Dolly and Jethro, Cletus' replacement, were moving out. All of them stood around talking and then moving stuff into trucks. Then the two men stood around in the front yard, drinking from 2 liter bottles of Mt. Dew . (Yes, I know that's a stereotype and no, I'm not joking.)

Then, they all drove away. They left a horrendous mess. Furniture in the yard, garbage all along the driveway behind the house, overgrown weeds and vegetation everywhere... not nice at all. The actual mess was much worse than the pictures of it. You really need to click for the larger version, you can see all the way down the driveway.














There was an upstairs window with a portable air conditioner in it. Cletus had used a kitty litter bucket to prop it up.
Ami. Mental.: Oh geez, Cletus!
Remember?

They took the AC with 'em, but left the window standing wide open with the blinds hanging out. That window is on the North side of the house, which means that every time it's rained since then, water has gotten in.

About a month ago, on a Saturday night, we heard some noise from Cletusville. I got up from the computer and looked out the kitchen windows. There were some kids tearing things up on the front porch of the Cletus-hovel and I could hear breaking glass. So I called the police. Half an hour later, when they showed up, the kids were gone.

Hm. Surprise surprise.

A few days later, we saw pink and green paint on some of the downstairs windows. Now we thought that maybe someone had purchased the house and they were trying out paint samples. (In retrospect, that's a really stupid thought) A couple days after that, Eric came home from work and there were neighbors standing around out there. He wandered over to see what was going on, and found that 'someone' had broken all the glass on the back side of the house, the door was standing open, and the interior of the home had been vandalized. Paint everywhere. All the food that was left in the house (don't ask me) had been opened and strewn all over, flung onto the walls and ground into the carpet. There was broken glass everywhere, and evidently the Cletus and company had left furniture and computer equipment and garbage behind and it was now flung everywhere.

Not too many days later, a big truck towing a flatbed trailer showed up. I watched the guy get out and wander around the property. I saw him looking out the upstairs windows, so I knew he was in the house. He came back down and stood next to his truck, talking to someone on his cell phone.

Then, a neighbor came to talk to him, and I heard him tell her that he was from the bank that up until 'half an hour ago' had owned the house. But while he was en route to clean things up, the house had once again changed hands. "So it might be another month before things get cleaned up around here, but call the police if you see anyone over here." He went on to say that there must be about 30 thousand dollars in damages to the interior of the house.

Two weekends ago, on a Sunday morning, I saw two guys with armloads of 'stuff' walking out from the driveway behind the house. I called to Eric to run to the window and get a look at them, because I knew they'd been in Cletusville and I thought we should get a description.

About fifteen minutes later, they showed up with a pickup.

They backed into the driveway and loaded up the truck with stuff from the house and left. Fifteen minutes later, they were back for another load.

I asked Eric if we should call the police. He said, "Why? They're over there cleaning out things that would be thrown away when the bank finally comes to clean." He added, "Fuck them! They left this shit sitting here. It's a goddamn burglar magnet. I don't give a shit if they load up the whole house and take it!"

I had to admit he had a point. So we didn't bother to call. I mean, it wasn't like the police were going to show up while they were still there anyway, right?

Last Thursday, a large truck drove up about nine in the morning. The three men who got out spent the entire day cleaning, hauling away trash and doing yard work. They were back on Friday morning with even more guys, doing more of the same. The place actually looks decent now.

It's nice to have it cleaned up, but now I'm wondering. Will someone buy the house and fix it up and live in it, or fix it up and sell it to another Clampett?

I'm hoping for no more Clampetts, I really am. I think we deserve better.