The street I grew up on made today's Wall Street Journal, for a very interesting reason: peacocks. The place has been infested with them since I was a kid. They are a nuisance: they get in your garden, roost on your roof and leave droppings--and then there is that unearthly howl.
But all in all you get used to it. My mother still keeps peacocks on her farm in Kansas. And, of course, Flannery O'Connor kept them.
Can't be all bad.