The Bozo is back in town – and our never-ending Halloween freak show is back with him. We are a little neighborhood niche of half-a-dozen homes served by a common driveway. He lives on the other side of a fence built like a border wall behind three of the neighbors’ houses. He’d been gone for three weeks – ever since the cops knocked on his door with yet another summons from a terrorized neighbor suing to keep him at bay. And he does bay when drunk – from his second-story balcony at the top of his lungs; he once sang …