When I was growing up, the equivalent of Kenny's family way down the
street. It was still somewhat of a rural area with farms and woods
to play in but our side of the street was lined with houses with
decent sized yards and space between. They were middle class houses-
brick ranches. Anyway, the "McCormick" family had five kids. The boy
we were friends with was the second oldest. They had that same
garage door problem that Kenny's house has on South Park. It was
broken or hanging awkwardly on its supports so that you couldn't
properly close up the garage. The garage was full of crap that you
couldn't sell for a dime like a broken pitch back where the bouce
back netting was broken. A lawnmower from the 50s that wouldn't
start. Old books in cardboard boxes that were going to rot-etc. A
buckled and cracked concrete slab lay in front of the garage and
before that was a gravel driveway that went up to the garage and
also made a big "U" in front of the house so that you could enter on
one side, drive in front of the house, and leave out the other side.
A doghouse sat under a pine tree off the north east corner of this
brick one story. The dog was sadly neglected and spent his days
alone either in the cold or the hot sun barely getting enough
attention to survive. He was lucky to get fresh water. He lived
amongest his own crap. The family wondered why the dog was deranged-
poor thing. Inside the house things weren't much better. A strange
smell permeated the air leaving the guest to wonder as to what its
origins were. Was it yesterday's dinner? Soiled baby diapers?
General lack of cleaning? You entered the house and on your right
was the living room with an unused fireplace. In front of you was a
modest dining room which had all kinds of clutter on the dining room
table. One time it was full of envelopes that the kids had to stuff.
It was one of those money making things that poor families would do.
A few steps to your left was the kitchen. Be careful as you went
through the doorway because more often than not you would stick to
the kitchen floor. I think it was mostly from spilled kool aid-
hopefully. The old, sticky, dried kool aid was more likely to
dissipate on its own than get cleaned up. O the memories! The
unkempt back yard. The murals drawn on the bedroom walls by the
oldest sister. The baseball cards stored in his moldy basement room
that went to mold themselves. The clothes around the house that were
half folded and half piled up. A strange transformation happened to
the house once these occupants moved. Everything became cleaned up
and repaired under the watch of the new owners.