Forgive me if I come off as sounding like a grumpy old man with nothing better to do than complain about the trivial things in life . . .like, for instance, trash in my front yard. Coke cans, candy bar wrappers, a half eaten bag of popcorn, a wrapper from a Big Mac. Where does it all come from? And it obviously migrates from the sidewalk, into my yard, and then finally all the way to--GASP--my front door.

I know it's not me. I know it's not my wife.

Well, when you add up the evidence (soda, candy . . .basically junk food remnants), it points to one, and only one, type of culprit . . .kids/teenagers. Yes, there I said it. Kids are junking up my yard, likely on the walks to and from each other's homes (summer) or the bus stop (fall, winter, spring). It's a year-round problem, these pesky teens and their high-calorie containers littering my yard.

And this, my friends, really burns my biscuits.

Have common courtesies been left at the front door of one's home when they step afoot into society? I would find it hard to believe these kids (okay, and likely some adults) toss their trash in their own front yards. Maybe I'm wrong, but the notion of "well, if it ain't my yard, I don't have to worry about it" seems to be in play more often than not. Even worse is that I live in a nice, simple neighborhood in which it would seem the bounds of proper etiquette would rarely be broken. So why trash in my yard? Or in my neighbors? Kids, can you please find the trash can. Otherwise, I'm going to stakeout the streets and catch ya. And when I do, why I oughtta . . .

Seriously, l'm tired of sounding like Mr. Wilson.