When I was a kid there was a man we called Crazy Bird. Crazy Bird had turned his backyard into a vegetable garden, and in my mind, because of the way he dressed and how he carried himself, he was a farmer.
He was a an older man who wore white button-down shirts and beige khaki pants. His shirts were finely pressed and tucked into his pants. He always wore a hat. Sometimes it was a straw hat and other times it was a more formal hat like a Philadelphia.
The thing about Crazy Bird was he didn't like us kids walking on his lawn. There was a stretch of grass that was sandwiched by sidewalk. That stretch of grass was Crazy Bird's. We kids would walk on the sidewalk and then hit Crazy Bird's grass to get to the sidewalk on the other side.
If Crazy Bird happened to catch you walking on his grass he'd grab the water hose and chase you down. "Get off my grass!!" he'd yell.
He was a tall lanky man. He looked a lot like William Burrows. Try to imagine a man that looked like William Burrows chasing you with a water hose. That was Crazy Bird.
