I grew up next to a dilapidated rental home. So many families moved in and out of that place. From my sister's bedroom window, we could see them, down in their kitchen, making fried potatoes and mac-n-cheese under a single, dimly-lit bulb dangling from the ceiling. When my step-father discovered that we could look right down into their kitchen, living room; even bathroom, he planted a series of pine trees in a line along our property. Eventually, those saplings would give us privacy, he said. But moreover, it would keep his step-children from becoming peeping Toms. But, we were curious about their life. A life so drastically different than our own. Why did the dad smoke cigarettes right over the food he was cooking? Why did their bathtub have that "ring" around it? Why did they drink so much beer? What were they watching on that t.v. all the time? The yelling. What were they so angry about all the time? They had two children; a boy and a girl. T