I would like to point out that these kids are all 6th grade and under.

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A sign? Mr. Reason doesn't have the same bite he used to I guess.

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Fare you well, fare you well
I love you more than words can tell
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul

First of all, that's the easement, which doesn't belong to the barely literate owner of the property. Second, he is just asking for trouble with that sign. Kids that age are jerkoffs, and they will do whatever they can, just to piss him off. Third, I would advise against directly threatening children with physical harm.

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Good people drink good beer - Hunter S. Thompson

<º)))><

Waiting for the time when I can finally say
That this has all been wonderful, but now I'm on my way

Why was lil Jojo tearing up this guys lawn?

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That's my purse! I don't know you!

Just sit outside with the hose.

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This guy reminds me of this old codger in my neighborhood named Dieter. Flash back to '87 or '88, where a middle school aged Chus walked to the bus stop every morning. There were six of us guys all born within about five months of each other, and we all went to school together since grade school. Some of the older kids in the neighborhood would throw beer bottles out of their car windows, as they drove through the neighborhood. Sometimes they landed in the ditch, sometimes they landed on the pavement, and broke. To pass the time while we waited for the bus, we would stand up the unbroken bottles, and try to throw pebbles at them from across the street, to see who could hit the most. We were throwing tiny pebbles, and we never broke any bottles.

Dieter didn't own the property on the corner, where we waited for the bus. He lived seven or eight houses down the block, so why we has so pissed all the time was a mystery to us. One morning, he pulls up in his car, and starts to yell at us for breaking the beer bottles. We told him that we haven't broken any bottles, but he isn't buying it. The bus pulls up, and we go on with our day. The next day, he shows up again, this time with a snow shovel, but no broom, demanding that we clean up the mess. We tell him again, that we didn't break any bottles, and the bus is coming, so we have to leave. He says that he will drive us to school after we clean up the mess. We declined his generous offer, and got on the bus. That evening, my buddy told his dad that this old fart was harassing us. His dad was a biker, and an ex-marine. He was a pretty tough dude. The next morning, his dad waited down the other block in his car. When we saw the old fart coming to bother us again, we signaled his dad. His dad drove up, got out of the car, and got in this dude's face. I don't remember his exact words, but they were to the effect of, "If you ever approach any of these boys again, I'm going to beat the shit out of you". He never bothered us again.

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Good people drink good beer - Hunter S. Thompson

<º)))><

Waiting for the time when I can finally say
That this has all been wonderful, but now I'm on my way

I grew up in Evanston (not sure if it was in Jason Goff's neighborhood). We would play ball and frisbee outside in the front yard (this was back in the stone age, before video games were invented). There was an old couple across the street. The lady was nice but the man was rather senile and not a happy guy. Every time a ball or frisbee landed in his yard he would run out, grab it and take it in his house.

After they both died a young couple bought the house. They reported that among the stuff that was left was a box full of balls and frisbees.

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"I honestly don't see a good bet on the board here."