An open letter to my brother

My brother, Cary, and I have a common problem. Neighbors. Cary's complaint is one I'd not heard. It seems one of his apartment neighbors doesn't use air conditioning. The heat from that person's dwelling travels to Cary's and makes it harder for him to cool his home.

Cary hopes owning a freestanding home will alleviate his trouble. I'm here to tell him it won't. If anything, home ownership leaves us more exposed to annoying neighbors. When renting, moving away from the bad apples isn't nearly as difficult as when you've got a mortgage.

We've owned two homes. Here are my Top 3 Most Annoying Neighbors:

3. (tie) The one who warms up his truck and the one with the chimney pulling away from the house.

The truck warmer-upper isn't a big problem for me, as I'm usually out of bed by 6 a.m. He's more of an issue for Rachel, especially when it's pleasant enough to sleep with open windows. The truck warmer-upper starts his vehicle up and lets it warm up for at least 20 minutes, no matter the time of year. Sometimes, he'll let it go for 45 minutes. This isn’t an F-150 we're talking about, but a diesel-powered beast. That poor engine just churns and churns.

The one with the chimney pulling away from the house was a classic. His chimney issue, he said, was the result of city drainage pipes. I never could understand the connection, but he insisted the city should buy his home. As he told me one night, "I might just move out and let a bunch of homeless people live here. We'll see what the city thinks about that." Apparently, the city didn't think much of that, because he and his family continued living there long after we moved. (That's not to mention the time that one of the children pointed a rifle gun at Rachel and said, "Pow." But that's another blog.)

2. The one with the car alarm.

This neighbor parks both of his cars outside. One of the vehicles, which I assume is equipped with an aftermarket alarm system, sounds its horn anytime there's a clap of thunder. So, during a thunderstorm, every thunder is followed with "honk-honk-honk-honk-honk-honk-honk." And it's not just thunder that does the trick. Even a passing motorcycle can trigger the alarm. Our bedroom overlooks their driveway, so we've awoke to the horn many times these past few years. (Most recently, the alarm sounded four times between 2 a.m. and 3 a.m. on Tuesday.) We've been over there to talk to them four times. Nothing changes.

1. The one with four dogs.

The City of Lenexa has an ordinance that restricts residents to two dogs per household. Of course, rules are made to have exceptions. For reasons that escape me, the city deems it acceptable for this neighbor to have four dogs. (And, no, they're not the quiet kind.) We've visited the home a half dozen times to ask them to reign in the noise. I won't recap every episode. I'll just share one example.

Earlier this year, we heard one of the dogs barking up a storm at about 7 p.m. Nothing unusual about that, as the dogs' owners often ignore their barking for 30-45 minutes at a time. The racket went on for an hour before I went outside to investigate. The dog was on the deck, the house pitch black. So, I went back inside and called the neighbor. No answer. Fast forward to 10 p.m. The dog's been barking for more than three hours. I go outside and find two other neighbors out on their decks. We all look at each other as if to say, "What now?" I go inside and call animal control. No answer. The dog's owner finally comes home just after 11 p.m. We call and basically ask, "What the hell?" He says, without a hint of apology, "We went out to dinner and didn't think we'd be gone as long as we were."

I wish I could say that's an isolated example. But we've called animal control about this home a dozen times over the years. Nothing changes.

So, Cary, there you have it. Home ownership has its advantages. But, unless you buy a Ted Turner-esque spread with plenty of acreage to protect your dwelling, there's no way to guarantee you won't live next to one of my all-time Top 3.