[Jeff Higgins]

We had a family in our neighborhood everyone affectionately refered to as the "Bundys" (Married with Children). On top of their many simply annoying and disgusting habits, pop and son built a tube-frame VW powered dune buggy. They hot-rodded up and down our dead end for all of about two laps, kids in the street and everything, before I tossed their aluminum ladder out in front of them. They creamed it, and in trying to avoid it, careened into the curb hard enough to bust a front spindle. The old man came running into my front yard looking a little upset, and landed flat on his back after a well-placed left hook. I lifted his upper body about a foot off the ground (by his throat) and calmly explained that if he ever hit my kids, or any kids for that matter, he better call 911, because I wasn't planning to... I think he understood. I never had another lick of trouble with him. Now while I certainly would not recommend this approach, it did work for me. I was communicating on about the only level he understood.