Dumb Design

tonksy said:
True. Although in my case, the majority of my neighbors are more concerned with their property value than their freedom. We simply find ways around the rules. except for the goat thing, haven't figured out how to get around that.
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If I had about 3 goats, I wouldn't need a lawnmower. And anybody want to trade a mule for a pickup truck? I would certainly rather ride a mule to work every day.
 
I can understand HOA's

You don't want some guy parking his pet project car on his lawn.

But some rules are crazy
 
paul_valaru said:
I can understand HOA's

You don't want some guy parking his pet project car on his lawn.

But some rules are crazy
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Right.
And some are just there as CYAs. Such as the "crops" rule. It's on the books in case some person turns their front lawn into a watermelon patch (not that I would care).
The mailbox rule is the one that grinds my gears. They give us a choice of 2 styles (both black) from one vendor...but some guy up the road replaced his with a plain black Home Depot special and no one has asked him to replace it. I think the board is going to rewrite the rule. I certainly hope so as I hate our mailbox. I planted 2 clematis at the base this season so hopefully by next year the damn thing will be covered.
 
tonksy said:
Right.
And some are just there as CYAs. Such as the "crops" rule. It's on the books in case some person turns their front lawn into a watermelon patch (not that I would care).
The mailbox rule is the one that grinds my gears. They give us a choice of 2 styles (both black) from one vendor...but some guy up the road replaced his with a plain black Home Depot special and no one has asked him to replace it. I think the board is going to rewrite the rule. I certainly hope so as I hate our mailbox. I planted 2 clematis at the base this season so hopefully by next year the damn thing will be covered.
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Clematis is good- moonflower vine or morning glory works well, too.
The thing about these HOA's- sometimes it's just a chisel- to get you to buy the mailbox from that one vendor, who's probably a golfing buddy of your HOA chairperson. I just don't trust 'em. Mindless conformism, akin to communism. There's a thing called TOLERANCE that seems rare as hen's teeth anymore, but you've got to have it in a free society. One neighbor up the road has several "project cars" in his yard- no skin off my nose. The newest neighbors have an obnoxious German Shepard that got into my garbage can one Trash Day morning. Cleaned up the mess, but didn't call the Sheriff or even confront the neighbors about it. Just douse my trash can with household ammonia (dogs hate it), and the problem is solved. He almost attacked me when I went for evening stroll, next night I had a water pistol with watered-down ammonia ready for his snout- gives me the right-of-way now!
 
JTP said:
free society.
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:rofl4: When you find one, let me know.

Note that I always worked in the garage and never started a loud one before 9AM or after 9PM. In the fall, winter and spring (this was in Tucson) I'd frequently work with the garage door open but my shop was always neat. The president of the HOA was just a fascist. Some people should never be given any authority at all.
 
chcr said:
:rofl4: When you find one, let me know.

Note that I always worked in the garage and never started a loud one before 9AM or after 9PM. In the fall, winter and spring (this was in Tucson) I'd frequently work with the garage door open but my shop was always neat. The president of the HOA was just a fascist. Some people should never be given any authority at all.
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Welcome to Ron Paul Country- within the law and reason, you do whatever you damn well please round here, although I'm having my misgivings about the Libertarians as well (backslides out the side door).
 
I'm confused about having to legally turn your lights off at times?

AFAIK, in NJ at least, the law pretty much goes - if your wipers are on, or it's dark out, your lights MUST be on. Other than that, you're free to put them on or off or whatever you want.
 
JTP said:
Gawd those things are blinding! Talk about overkill! Another of my pet peeves. And why can't you get a new car with manual crank-down windows anymore? And those dinging bells that go off when you open the door... anybody got some cheese to go with my whine?
:cuss:
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The bell is a usually plug in module on the fuse panel. Simply reach up and pull it out and put it in the glove box.
 
JTP said:
I can get you all the marten gourds you want, mah fren. People round here grow gourds out of habit, and the seeds get loose, so they're also growing wild in the gullies and ravines.
All it takes is a power drill with a 1 & 1/2 " doorknob-cutter attachment. That makes the right size "door" for the bird. Then you let it dry and shake the seeds and pulp out- similar to pumpkin- and you've got a birdhouse. My colony of purple martens are my gardens best friends.
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Psst...its called a hole saw. ;)
 
Tom Waits
Mule Variations (1999)
What's He Building?

What's he building in there?
What the hell is he building
In there?
He has subscriptions to those
Magazines... He never
Waves when he goes by
He's hiding something from
The rest of us... He's all
To himself... I think I know
Why... He took down the
Tire swing from the Peppertree
He has no children of his
Own you see... He has no dog
And he has no friends and
His lawn is dying... and
What about all those packages
He sends. What's he building in there?
With that hook light
On the stairs. What's he building
In there... I'll tell you one thing
He's not building a playhouse for
The children what's he building
In there?

Now what's that sound from under the door?
He's pounding nails into a
Hardwood floor... and I
Swear to god I heard someone
Moaning low... and I keep
Seeing the blue light of a
T.V. show...
He has a router
And a table saw... and you
Won't believe what Mr. Sticha saw
There's poison underneath the sink
Of course... But there's also
Enough formaldehyde to choke
A horse... What's he building
In there. What the hell is he
Building in there? I heard he
Has an ex-wife in some place
Called Mayors Income, Tennessee
And he used to have a
consulting business in Indonesia...
but what is he building in there?
What the hell is building in there?

He has no friends
But he gets a lot of mail
I'll bet he spent a little
Time in jail...
I heard he was up on the
Roof last night
Signaling with a flashlight
And what's that tune he's
Always whistling...
What's he building in there?
What's he building in there?

We have a right to know...
 
Or

Small Change (Got Rained on with His Own .38)

Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight,
And nobody flinched down by the arcade
And the marquees weren't weeping, they went stark-raving mad,
And the cabbies were the only ones that really had it made
And his cold trousers were twisted, and the sirens high and shrill,
And crumpled in his fist was a five-dollar bill
And the naked mannequins with their Cheshire grins,
And the raconteurs and roustabouts said "Buddy, come on in, 'cause
'Cause the dreams ain't broken down here now, they're walking with a limp
Now that Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight"
And nobody flinched down by the arcade
And the burglar alarm's been disconnected,
And the newsmen start to rattle
And the cops are telling jokes about some whorehouse in Seattle
And the fire hydrants plead the Fifth Amendment
And the furniture is bargains galore
But the blood is by the jukebox on an old linoleum floor
And what a hot rain on Forty-Second Street,
And now the umbrellas ain't got a chance
And the newsboy's a lunatic with stains on his pants, 'cause
'Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight
And no one's gone over to close his eyes
And there's a racing form in his pocket,
Circled "Blue Boots" in the third
And the cashier at the clothing store didn't say a word
As the siren tears the night in half, and someone lost his wallet
Well, a surveillance of assailance, it that's what you want to call it
And the whores hike up their skirts and fish for drug-store prophylactics
With their mouths cut just like razor blades and their eyes are like stilettos
And her radiator's steaming and her teeth are in a wreck, and nah,
She won't let you kiss her, but what the hell do you expect?
And the Gypsies are tragic and if you want to buy perfume,
Well, they'll bark you down like carneys, sell you Christmas cards in June, but
But Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight
And his headstone's a gumball machine,
No more chewing gum or baseball cards or overcoats or dreams
Someone's hosing down the sidewalk, and he's only in his teens, 'cause
'Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight
And a fistful of dollars can't change that,
And someone copped his watch fob, and someone got his ring
And the newsboy got his porkpie Stetson hat
And the tuberculosis old men at the Nelson wheeze and cough
And someone will head south until this whole thing cools off, 'cause
'Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight, yeah,
Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight
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Social commentary, poetry, performance, whiskey and wine. I hear he stopped drinking.
 
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