I don't know if you've ever taught school, but by around the second week in May, you pretty much feel like you've been dragged across a trackless desert with no end in sight. That's why a quiet Sunday morning at home is a real treasure.
But last May, my quiet Sunday morning at home was interrupted at 8:00 in the morning by an industrial sized wood chipper. A landscaping company had come to cut down the huge trees that were being slaughtered so that Mark Ryan Homes could put up two cheesy McMansions across the street from my house.
There's nothing quite like being awakened by a large chipping machine and a chorus of chain saws. On Sunday.
In high dudgeon, Mr. J went outside and told them to stop. The foreman gave Mr. J a sad smile and said, "Hey, we have to feed our families, okay?"
So Mr. J called the police.
It took Snobville's Finest about 45 minutes to arrive, during which the tree slaughter continued unabated. Neighbors gathered in their bathrobes to gawk. The policeman told the workers it was against the law to operate industrial machinery in Snobville on Sunday ... but then gave them another hour to wrap things up.
In the fullness of time a court date arrived for the charge of disturbing the peace, laid somehow on the builder and not the subcontracting tree murderers. The judge ordered the matter into "arbitration," and we got a date for the arbitration. It was August 21.
Mr. J and I couldn't quite figure out what there was to arbitrate. The builder broke a local statute. Shouldn't he just have to pay a fine, maybe get the infraction noted on his company's record?
On the eve of the arbitration, one of my daughters came for dinner, so I didn't go with Mr. J to the meeting. He left, nicely dressed and on time. And the builder was there. And apparently a jovial conversation ensued, in which Mr J aired his beefs in a civilized manner and the builder apologized and said it wouldn't happen again. (Which, how could it? The trees are gone.) At the end the builder and Mr J shook hands, and off Mr. Mark Ryan went with a clean record and probably a good fifty bucks ahead of the game, fine-wise.
When Mr. J came home all smiles, I went livid. At which time I got told by daughter and husband that I had better get a grip.
So, readers. You tell me. Is my anger justified?
*I now have two houses across the street, where there was one before. Four trees were killed, including one that was 100 years old. The killing occurred partly on a Sunday morning well before noon.
*The first house is sold. It sold for $900,000. To a young family that has already defied the building code and contracted for a patio in their under-sized back yard. The builder was not legally obliged to tell the young buyers that they couldn't legally construct a patio in their back yard. But, you know, he's doing so much for the Snobville economy by bringing in new tax revenues! (Wonder what's gonna happen to my house when it's assessed next?)
*The second house is in a bidding war. Mr J was made to understand that it might sell for a million bucks, which, you know, will make our house ever so much more valuable! (How that can be I have no idea, since these McMansions sport 4 to 5 bathrooms and my house has one.)
*I'm a public school teacher with a pensioner husband, living across the street from millionaires. I don't like millionaires. I voted for Bernie, remember?
*When I look out my front window, I see a framed two-car garage, just waiting for the luxury cars these millionaires will drive.
*Donald Trump is president. The Senate will soon confirm a Supreme Court justice that was nominated by a criminal.
*Rich people get away with shit that you and I could never pull. It could be ripping down trees on a Sunday, or it could be paying porn stars to keep quiet about extramarital affairs. It could be buying the loyalty of a town council and a borough planning board, or it could be undermining clean air statues on behalf of the fossil fuel billionaires.
And I'm supposed to get a grip? Not me. I'll slide right down the rock, thank you very much.
6 comments:
you have every right to be furious. the builder must have greased some palms in snobville. I have a friend in denver who says that the older homes are being demolished in his 'hood for mcmansions. IT AIN'T FITTIN'!
and the start of a new school year is just around the corner.
That doesn't make a luck of sense. Mediation and arbitration make sense in civil suits in order to, you know, settle the suit and avoid trial, but when it's a local ordinance, then you've either broken the ordinance or not. You wouldn't send a mugger to arbitration with his victim, and honestly, tickets for breaching the peace are criminal, not civil.
Hmm. You have reason to be angry.
Yes, you should get a grip. But not on your anger. Get a grip on snobville's balls and twist. HARD! I completely agree with you about the way things were handled. That was not a good thing.
blessings
~*~
Not to throw more fuel on your rage, but won't two houses with price tags 900 K and up raise your own property taxes?
I'm originally from the coast of South Carolina near Myrtle Beach and that's what pushed a good chunk of the long times residents out of the area. Back in the 1980's and before most of the homes in the area were modest affairs, to say the least. In fact the motto for Pawelys Island, SC was "Arrogantly Shabby."
Then came the late 80's building boom and the area is soon sporting multiple subdivisions of McMansions, some built on land that used to be swamps. Both property taxes and homeowners insurance then went straight into orbit forcing many locals to move.
What really ticked me and many others off is that FEMA helps those people rebuild after hurricanes. Given the already swampy land and rising sea levels, it's beyond stupid to help rich people rebuild such expensive homes.
Justified anger is all well and good, but be careful not to give yourself a stroke over it. Balance!
I would have been so loud and obnoxious that no one in the house would be speaking to me till christmas.
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