HRH King Me of the HOA

Democracy is hard work. Committees are slow, voters are apathetic and frustrating by turns, opposition is persistent and, dang it, so often just plain wrong. Keeping in mind the inarguable and obtuse (or rather, inarguable because obtuse) admonition that all politics is local, I have decided to narrow my focus with the goal of instituting a more perfect form of government. Oh yes, I hear you saying; it’s more important who’s on your school board than who’s in the White House. But that is so 2008. Think narrower.

I am the new king of our homeowners’ association. Bow before us, ye with mortgages.noise_leaf_blower

We ascended the throne in a bloodless coup whose only casualty was a pitcher of spilled margaritas. Accompanied as I was by a squadron of pikemen armed with weed whackers, no one at the “meeting” could offer any serious opposition. The denizens of the old order all signed loyalty oaths on the back of Publix grocery receipts. We have begun to consolidate our power by appointing ministers in various functions so that we may enjoy our time at court and dream up enlightened edicts for the good of all. As determined by our royal bad self. Herewith, a collection of our most popular decrees:

  • Quiet, Thou Lawn-Mowing Knave. Whether you do it yourself or hire someone, somewhere within 66 hours a week, you should be able to find time to get your lawn cut without disturbing our royal peace. If we are enjoying dinner with HM Queen Teresa and Crown Prince Joseph at 7 p.m. on our royal lanai, we should not have to shout over the sound of your lawnmower. Eight a.m. to 6 p.m. weekdays and 10 a.m. to 6 on weekends is plenty of time. We enjoy our royal sleep-in (until interrupted by The Canine Royal).
  • Clean Thy Roof Before We Have to Tell You. It’s Florida. The tile roofs get dirty every few years. You knew this going in. When you buy a house, the maintenance doesn’t stop. Quit being a slob.
  • It’s Gravity, You Dope. Guess what? Even we cannot issue an edict preventing water from flowing. And when you put your trash bags in the gutter that feeds our storm drains, the water is going to back up faster than the French Army.
  • Herewith, Thy Bill Is Due in March and September. In our mercy, we shall not ask you for the whole annual nut right after Christmas. And we shall show how increases are being spent.
  • My People Shall Play! No basketball hoop in a driveway shall be deemed an eyesore by cranky adults who obviously hate kids having fun.
  • Across-Sidewalk Parkers, Be Gone. What do you think that path is for? Pull up into your driveway and think about someone else for a change. We and the Canine Royal do not like stepping out into the road because you’re a lazy, inconsiderate bum.
  • Leaf Blowers Are Things of the Devil. Would your mother have been pleased with you moving a mess from one place to the next and leaving it there, a new mess? And making a noise like the apocalypse on a boom box as you do? Get. A. Broom.
  • Celebration Is Good. Be Accommodating. On weekend nights, don’t be such a hardass about party noise. Let people blow off a reasonable amount of steam. Next time, it’ll be you. Sure, you might have to have a word with someone if it gets much past 2 a.m. But talk first, don’t just call the cops. And partiers, by that same reasoning, err on the side of volume down a bit, and/or indoors after midnight.

We have a great many more edicts to prepare. But first, I must meet with my ministers to forestall any Game of Thrones-like effort to depose me. Especially the bad ministers…..[evil chuckle]…HERALD! MY WIDE-BRIMMED HAT AND SUNSCREEN!♕

© 2013 HRH Adam of the HOA. All Rights Hoarded and Denied the Peasantry

[Note: Just to clear up any really frightening suspicion, I have not been elected to the board of my neighborhood’s homeowners association. If nominated, I will not run, and if elected, I will not serve. But if crowned…..]

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