People In Your Neighbourhood: Crasians

So the Asian guy across the street was out mowing his lawn the other day, with a scuba mask on.

Now plastic bags tied around the shoes I can understand; who wants grass stains on their white Bata Bullets, but a scuba mask?! What’s up with that, for fucks sake?

Actually I know what’s up with that, he be a crazy Asian (Crasian) and that’s just what they do.

Do you remember that bit in Sesame Street they always used to do about ‘the people in your neighbourhood, in your neighbourhood, they’re the people you meet everyday’? And they had the strapping black guy who looked like, but obviously wasn’t, a homicidal rapist? My street reminds me of that sometimes.

Gardening day across the road is very amusing at the best of time. A small portion of the household – some 400 approximately – take a break from making car tyres or whatever it is they do in the garage all day and descend upon the front yard with all manner of garden tools and kitchen utensils.

The actual strip of lawn out the front of their place is roughly the size of the men’s toilets but my god do they go to town on it as if they were they attacking South Korea or something.

The funny thing is that when the dust settles - and it’s like Hiroshima over there for most of the gardening afternoon - it still looks a complete shambles. Shorter admittedly, but only in the front. They leave the sides long, just like a good mullet; Business on top, party down the back.

But there’s a strange comfort you have knowing that your friendly neighbourhood Crasians are watching you most of the day from behind their closed blinds, like they do when not scuba diving amonst the weeds. They see things, just like Jack off Titanic.

Not to be confused with jacking off to Titanic, because everyone knows you can only really do that to the one scene and it’s not even Kate Winslet’s hand for chrissake. And it’s a long wait till then too, all which makes for a pretty sad wank really. Especially the second time.

We have another Asian family in the street but they’re not so much crazy as they are nosey, but in a good way. The old guy, Mr Miyagi, keeps an eye on the street, literally. He smokes a pipe which is a wonderful excuse to get out on the driveway and away from her indoors I suspect.

He and I have a little ritual that is both respectful and amusing. He watches me get into the car and then turns away as if he hasn’t seen me. He’ll start making his way inside right up till the moment I pass when he looks back to see if I’ll wave.

I always wave and so does he, despite pretending he never really saw me in the first place. When I drive up the street he does the same thing. The other day we bumped into each other at the supermarket and out of instinct he turned and walked away. I didn’t let him down when he looked back.

Sometimes I really catch him out, like when I need to leave early for football and he’s not only out of the house but halfway up the bloody road. This leads to an awkward moment, like we’ve just walked in on each other in the nude, yet still the ritual beings, he turns away and I wait for him to reach the drive and look back...

But it’s neighbours like that you like. I know that if anyone is cruising up and down our little street casing the place then he’s going to notice the bastards and for that I’d let him walk in on me in the buff if he really wanted to.

Crasians might be indeed crazy and in some cases quirky, but they are the people in your neighbourhood that you meet every day and that you come to rely on, even if for a bit of light relief when they mow the lawns wearing scuba masks.

Looks like those damn puppets were right after all.