Perhaps some bylaws
I’ve been a resident in my new community for over two weeks now, and my opinion is that it is time for some zoning and policing bylaws.
This is a “village of chance” because none of us have deep historical claims to the area (although I have a few grandparents that once lived up the hill, so that should count for something). Presently, we are all immigrants, trying hard to set down roots without having to dig a foundation hole or cut down trees.
Either of those acts would get us into deep trouble with the lord of the manor, who doesn’t actually live here but arrives at any time of day or night in a variety of vehicles. The lord set down rules based on a historical fiat, and the boundaries of our properties are marked by poles that have been there for many years. The lord also sets the price for our rents, the frozen water used to keep our provisions chilly and the wood by which some guarantee their only entertainment (HD Cave TV).
As for the residents, we tend to come and go as the spirit (vacation dates) move us, often quitting our lands never to return. But, while we are together, the typical communal tensions discussed in the opening weeks of my urban geography course are evident.
Some people have problems with unfenced boundaries; the imaginary line between two posts is “in your brain, not mine”. We also have a dichotomy concerning the style of housing. Imagine a neighbourhood where our two room habitat (in trendy ripstop nylon) is side by each to a behemoth with a market value of many hundreds of thousands of dollars, and roll out rooms, and air, and water, and satellite TV (depending on tree cover). The wrong side of the tracks needs tracks.
We share water supplies; recently some interloper hooked his mobile palace up with total disregard for historical rights. We had to walk to the other side of the village (which has running hot and cold) just to get coffee in the morning. The lord of the manor also sells coffee, but so far I haven’t found reason to buy there.
Most of us keep our dogs on many leashes (prevents war with the squirrels and seals and coyotes), but some let their best friends run freely (unaware of the coyotes, I guess). They may regret that some day, unless they move away.
There is a neighbour who insists on placing a radio on the roof of his house and playing loud country music for the rest of the village. I may find some Sean Nós (Gaelic a capella) to retaliate. And let’s not get into the variety of political confrontations that are brought out while discussing the weather across the (imaginary) fences over bad coffee.
Indeed, we are ready for bylaws.
