I was living in Lincoln, Nebraska, when a kid from next door came over and invited me to attend a party he was throwing when his mother was out of town. I didn’t care too much for the kid, so I gave him a polite no. He went back next door, and a friend of mine from two houses down - on the other side of the kid - came over and told me he was going to the party. “Suit yourself, Mike” I said, or some such nonsense.
The party revved up and got kind of noisy, so I thought I’d go and see how the good neighbor was getting along. As it was he was just headed back to his place, which was on the other side of a hurricane fence (chain link fence). A young punk called out, “See you later, Grampa!” from one side of the fence. Mike reached over the fence and pulled the kid over the fence, saying “Who you callin’ Grampa?” That, plus some guy calling the cops on all those underage kids, caused the party to grind to a halt. Now, that’s entertainment!
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