Thunderbutt and Clodzilla

The wonders of apartment living

When I first moved to Monterey it was because Nicolle was stationed at DLI. We got an apartment near the base up on Spaghetti Hill in Monterey. Bottom floor apartment. Nice. Seemed nice. Good location. Plenty of room. She could walk to base and it wasn’t far from the job I’d found in Pacific Grove.

The upstairs neighbors were these two tiny young ladies. Exchange students. Very sweet.

Until they started walking.

We knew when they went upstairs. We knew when they went downstairs. We knew when they moved at all in their apartment. They were not quiet. They wore boots and shoes with huge soles. HIGH, heavy, fashion.

We called them Thunderbutt and Clodzilla. Not to their faces, of course. But making ‘light’ of it did make it less annoying. Sometimes you do have to find a way to laugh at things.

I try to be a quiet upstairs neighbor. I really would prefer if my downstairs neighbor never really knew if I was home. That would be ideal. Shhh. Quiet.

Why am I thinking about this? Well, I found a poem I wrote in 2010 and thought I’d share it. I’m not sure I had Thuderbutt and Clodzilla in mind when I wrote it, but it did remind me of them… and what I want to be as an upstairs neighbor.

Shoeless, quiet, peaceful…

---

POPCORN

Many obsessions filled his mind.
ramshackle
peanuts on the floor
white packing peanuts
spread thin on the floor of his
third story apartment
many broken down to fine bits.

There are THose
and we all know THem
that announce THeir presence
E VER
Y
time THey descend on a rooM.
THeir footsteps pound
THeir voice bOOms
door slAms
it is THeir way.
We all know THem.

and there are those
living on tip toes
that don’t want to be
seen - visible - known
and discreetly they move
through life.
you’d never know
or care or be concerned or wonder
because they may as well not be there.

And so he has spread
white packing popcorn on his floor so that when,
when...
he walks barefoot - stealthily
the woman downstairs will not hear the slightest thing.
not even a crinkle.
She'd never know.